Someone to Watch Over Me
by lefty31289
Summary: On her way home, Sara meets a sailor name Jessie. While readjusting to life, she learns no one has heard from Jessie in 3 months. To find out what Jessie has to do with her she must first learn to accept her past, with a little help from those around her.
1. Friends in Low Places

A/N: This is my first CSI fanfic. My only other one is a Voyager fanfic. This idea came to me a couple nights ago, but then I was too busy trying to work it into my STV story, that I had kind of forgetten it. That was until my mind shifted it from Star Trek to CSI. Quite a jump, I know, but what can I say. My mind's an interesting place. Hope you like, and be sure to review so I know. If this is too weird or I'm just a terrible writter, I'd like to know.

NOTE: I've not seen any episodes past "Goodbye and Good luck." After Jorja Fox left, I just could work up the energy to watch new episodes. Therefore, this story makes several assumptions:  
1.) Without Sara, Grissom has something of a breakdown where he works 24/7 and starts yelling at everyone.  
2.) Warrick gets his divorce and hooks up with Catherine. I don't think I'm going to make this a major focus, but it will come up.  
3.) I'm not sure how they've portrayed Ronnie, but I'm going have her act a lot like the way she did in her first episode. I just like the way she acted all excited and energetic and Sara's just trying to do her job. My favorite scene is when Ronnie asks, "Know why I picked Vegas?" And Sara responds calmly, looking like she's fighting the urge to slap her, "I know you've got nine questions left." It's that kind of chemstry I'm going to keep alive. Just and FYI.

PLEASE REVIEW!!!

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She had no idea what she was doing here. This was one of the worst places she could be right now, but when she saw the neon lights, it was almost as if she was guided here by some force out of her control. She looked around, noting how similar it was to almost every other run down highway bar she'd ever been in. There was an old jukebox in the corner that was surrounded by tables covered with empty beer bottles. Hanging on the walls were Navy insignias and pictures of people in Navy uniforms. The bar itself had an L shape to it with the bartender at the other end yelling at some drunk to leave his bar.

Sara took a seat on the stool right where the long end of the bar met the shorter end in a 90 degree angle. She looked over at the shorter end and saw four seats, two of them had inverted shot glasses in front of them, while the two had 16 oz. glasses full of beer in front of them. She looked at the wall next to the furthest chair and saw it was littered with pictures, just like the other walls. Upon close inspection, she noticed that all the pictures that covered this wall had the same four people in them. Underneath the collage were individual pictures of the four, each in Navy uniforms. There were two men and two women. One of the men and one of the women had dog tags hanging next to their pictures.

"They were killed in the line of duty," a voice said, startling Sara.

"What," she asked. She looked over to see the bartender standing in front of her.

"The pictures with the dog tags next to them. All four of them served in the Navy as S.P.s.," the bartender explained. "The four of them have been coming to this bar since they graduated from Great Lakes Navel Training Station. Their first posting was at the Fallon Navel Air Station 'bout six miles from here. They came almost every day for three years. After that posting, they got transferred to different areas, but they still stopped by here at least once or twice a year. The two with dog tags, Mike and Terry, they were killed in Iraq. They weren't even on duty. They had shore leave, and were in a marketplace when a man with a bomb strapped to himself showed up. They were standing right next to him when he triggered it."

"Oh my God," Sara said, looking again at their pictures.

"The inverted shot glasses are in their memory," the bartender said, pointing to the shots. "That's where they always sat."

"And the two full glasses?"

"Waiting for them to come back," he answered. "Name's Phil," he said extending his hand.

"Sara," she said.

"Live 'round here?"

"No, just passing through on my way home."

"Got a room for the night?"

"I don't plan on stopping, just driving straight through until I get there."

"And you stopped in a bar," he asked with one eyebrow raised.

"I don't even know why," she said. "It was almost like I was drawn here."

Phil smiled and said, "I've heard that before. Can I get you anything to drink?"

"Just some water for now."

"If you get hungry let me know," he said handing her the glass. "And if any of those boys give you any trouble, just give me a holler. Most of them couldn't get any if a girl drank herself blind, and it usually takes a bit for them to take a hint."

"Thanks," Sara said, smiling at the bartender.

She took a drink as Phil walked away and heard a voice next to her say, "He may not look it, but that man is a huge softie."

Sara looked to her right to see that sitting in one of the four seats closest to her was a woman in a Navy uniform. She had brown hair that was held back in a bun and dark brown eyes. The woman had an amused smile on her face as Sara studied her. "I'm that one," she said pointing to a picture on the wall. Then holding out her hand she said, "I'm Jessica Dixon, but everyone calls me Jessie."

"Sara Sidle," she said shaking it. "I'm sorry to hear about your friends." As soon as she said the words she cringed internally. Had she really just said that?

"Yeah, so was I," Jessie said as she looked over at the pictures. "Anyway, I haven't seen you round here before, and I've seen everyone."

"Just passing through on my way home. Needed to stop for a break and well…"

"This place just called out to you," Jessie finished. At Sara's surprised look, she answered, "How do you think the four of us ended up here? Just somethin' about this place…" After a slight pause, Jessie asked, "So where's home?"

"Las Vegas."

"Vegas," Jessie asked. "You mean people other than hookers and strippers live there?"

"Surprisingly enough," Sara replied laughing. "I take it you've been there?"

"Once," she said. "What do you do for a living?"

"I work at the Crime Lab, or at least I used to."

"Were you fired?"

"No," she sighed.

"You might as well tell me," Jessie said.

"Why," Sara asked. "I don't even know you."

"Exactly," Jessie said with a half smile. "So I can give you an outsider's perspective on whatever problem you've got that you think will ruin your life." At Sara's sigh, Jessie continued, "Look, if you don't tell me now, odds are you'll end up getting drunk and telling me anyway. Wouldn't you rather be sober when you tell this story?"

"You seem pretty confident that I'm going to tell you."

Jessie shrugged and said, "That's because people always tell me. Listening is what I do best."

Sara gave another worn out sigh and proceeded to tell Jessie her whole story, from her childhood to when she left Las Vegas.

"Feel better," Jessie asked as soon as she was done.

"Yes, actually…"

"I do have some advice, if you're interested," Jessie said after examining Sara for a moment. "I know some people just like to vent and take offense when you try to help…"

"I would love some advice," Sara interrupted. "I've spent over six months trying to figure things out, and I just can't… not anymore."

"Ok first," Jessie said leaning forward, almost as if she was sharing a secret with Sara, "I have similar ghosts. When I was three, my mother was caught in a drug sting trying to sell me off to a dealer for an eight ball. I went to go live with my father, his wife, and two kids. It wasn't a happy time, and three years later I ended up in foster care myself when my step-mother killed my father. Ghosts like these… they don't stay hidden, and they cannot be put to rest. You have to learn to accept them and deal with them, because as much as you may hate them, they did make you who you are today. If you try to bury them, you'll just burn yourself out in the process. You have to accept them."

Sara just stared at Jessie as she continued, not sure what to make of her. "Second, as far as this Dr. Grissom goes, I don't think you've got anything to worry about. You waited for him for six years, the least he can do is wait six months. And if he can't he's not worth it." When Sara tried to interrupt, Jessie continued, "Did you say he went on a month long sabbatical after watching a guy kill himself just before the police got to him?"

"Yes."

"He witnesses a suicide, he gets a month off. You get buried alive under a car and trek across the desert, you get six months off. That's just how it works and if he can't accept that, he's not worth it."

"Third, and finally," Jessie continued, "don't even worry about you job. If they won't give it back to you, which would surprise me, you could easily find a job as a professor or hell, even write mystery novels. I bet you could write as good as James Patterson with all the crime scenes you've done."

"I would still like my job back," Sara said, sounding like a little kid. "I've been going crazy without it."

"Then explain you were on the verge of a breakdown and you didn't want to start compromising cases and ruin the integrity of the department. Someone will understand."

"And if they don't?"

"Then you go to the press and say how the Las Vegas Crime Lab would give you your job back after you almost had a breakdown after your kidnapping."

Sara gave a short laugh and said, "I could just imagine the Sheriff's reaction to that one."

"There's always an answer," Jessie said with a smile, "even if you may not like what it could be. Now, I think the most important think for you to do now is get back in your car and go back home. Grissom needs you."

"You say that like you know for sure."

"I do know." At Sara's questioning look she answered, smiling, "He's got to. Look how much you need him. And if he loves you half as much as you love him... then yes, he really needs you."

Sara stared at her water for a minute before rising. She turned to Jessie and said, "Thank you, for everything."

"Not a problem. That's what I'm here for," she said with a half smile.

She watched Sara almost sprint out the door, and then turned her attention to the other end of the bar where Phil was standing with one of his patrons.

"You got another strange one, Phil," the man slurred, pointing to the door Sara just exitted. "Second one this week that came in, talked to herself, and then practically runs out the door."

"I think you've had to much to drink, Johnny," Phil said. "Why don't I call you a cab an you can get on home."

"Yeah sure," Johnny said as he stumbled his way out the door to wait for the cab outside.

After he called the cab company, Phil made his way over to where Jessie was sitting and said, "That girl looked like she needed your help. Could tell from the moment she walked in. Although I still don't know what you're doing here."

"Wouldn't you want to hang around this place," Jessie asked. She smiled as he walked away without answering her. He never answered her these days, but that was ok; she'd gotten used to it.

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A/N 2: So...? Yay, nay? Let me know!

BTW: For those of you who didn't grow up with Navy terms like me, S.P. stands for Shore Partol. That's the Navy's version of the Military Police officers. Another slang term for them is "Shorps". Don't know if I'll use it, just throwing it out there just incase.


	2. Welcome Home

Grissom was pissed. There was no other way of describing him at that moment. His case at work had put so much pressure on him that he ended up snapping at one of the new lab techs, causing him to cry. While on his way to apologize, Ecklie had informed him that he had to take a week long vacation, starting immediately. When Grissom refused, he was informed that if he didn't take it, he would be suspended. As soon as he got home, he saw Hank crouching in fear in the corner, and soon smelled why the dog was so scared. After he threw (literally) the dog outside and cleaned up his mess, he was on a mission to get drunk when he realized he was out of alcohol.

"Can this day get any worse," he asked aloud as he let the dog in and turned on the radio. "More Than a Memory" by Garth Brooks had just started playing as he went into the kitchen to get something to eat. As he ate his peanut butter sandwich (figures he was out of jelly), he found himself sympathizing with the singer.

"_Cause when your dialin' her number just to hang up the phone  
__Drivin' across town just to see if she's home  
__Wakin' a friend in the dead of night  
__Just to hear him say it'll be all right  
__When you're findin' things to do not to fall asleep  
__Cause you know she's waiting in your dreams  
__That's when she's more than a memory_"

Just then Hank started running around and barking like crazy, drowning out the rest of the song. That's when Grissom realized he had the beginnings of a migraine setting in. The song ended and the radio had put on a song by Keith Urban, "Told You So." As the song started, Hank finally quieted a little, which allowed him to hear a faint knock on the door.

Figuring the last thing he needed was company, he shouted, "You've got the wrong house. No one you know lives here." But still the knocking continued, this time a little more forcefully. He thought about turning up the radio to tune out the knocking, but then realized that would probably be the worst thing for his migraine.

The song was in full gear as he grudgingly made his way to the door

"_Said you needed your space  
__I wasn't where you wanted to be  
__I didn't stand in your way  
__I only want you to be happy_"

He opened the door and was just about to tell the person to go away when he saw who it was and froze.

"_And so how surprised, am I  
To see you here, tonight_"

"Sara," Grissom almost whispered, not believing she was really there.

"Hi," was all her tight throat would let her say. Before she had the chance to say anything else, Grissom pulled her into his arms while the song kept playing.

"_Oh, can't you see  
__That for worse or for better  
__We're better together  
__Please, just come back home  
__No, don't say that you're sorry  
__And I won't say I told you so_"

Finally, Hank was so tired of being ignored, he head butted Grissom on the side of his knee, forcing him to step away. Once he'd moved, Hank immediately took his place and jumped on his hind legs and put his front legs on Sara, panting happily.

"Hey, I missed you too," she said kneeling down and petting him. He responded by licking her all over her face and barking happily.

Sara walked into the townhouse with Grissom and Hank following her. "Since when do you listen to country," Sara asked, recognizing the song.

"Since you left," he answered. "Every time I tried to play one of my classical CDs, I had memories of you. You liked to listen to Rock and Jazz, but neither of us listened to Country. It was the one genre that didn't have any memories attached," he said with an almost defeated look.

"Gil, I'm so sorry," she started, but he interrupted her by putting one arm around her waist and the other on her mouth.

"Your home now. The only thing that could upset me is if you said you were leaving again."

Sara shook her head and a small smile played on her face. "No, I'm not going anywhere," she said moving her head to his shoulder. It appeared Jessie was right after all.

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That night, Sara woke up in Grissom's arms to find him staring at her.

"Hey," she said sleepily.

Grissom gave a half smile as he brought up his free hand to lightly rub his fingers on her cheek.

"What are you thinking about," Sara asked after a minute.

"Just how this place doesn't feel empty anymore," he said with a slight smile. When he saw a shadow pass over her eyes, he asked, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," she said.

At her lie, Grissom raised an eyebrow and stared at her.

She sighed and said, "The whole trip here I was afraid you didn't want me to come back, that you realized I'm not worth all the drama…"

As soon as the words left her mouth, Grissom pulled her to him, crushing his lips to hers. When air became a necessity, they pulled apart and Grissom said, "Don't ever say that again. You are the most important thing in my life. You needed to get away, just like I had to, and I waited for you to come back, just like you waited for me."

"You were only gone for a month, I was gone for six. I didn't say goodbye to your face, I just left a note and ran," she said, her voice almost breaking.

"You did what you had to. Besides," he said with a smirk, "you waited six years for me to come to my senses about us. The least I could do was wait six months." At Sara's short laugh, Grissom cocked his head and raised a questioning eyebrow.

"You're the second person to say that to me," she explained.

"Who was the first," he asked.

"I stopped at a bar outside of Fallon. While I was there I met a sailor named Jessie and we talked for a while. She said that if I waited for you for six years, the least you could do was wait six months. If you couldn't, than you weren't worth it."

"She's right," Grissom said. "Were you able to bury your ghosts?"

"No," Sara sighed. "I was on my way back because I just felt empty and had nowhere else to go. It almost felt as if I was being guided into that bar where I met Jessie. She had a similar past as me and said she discovered it's impossible to bury ghosts like that and I'd just have to learn to accept and deal with them."

"And how's that process going," he asked, eyes full of concern.

"It's not easy, and I may need help," she answered nervously. She was still scared, despite his words, that he would get tired and leave her and all her emotional baggage.

Grissom saw the look in her eyes and recognized it. He had seen it in the mirror almost everyday for six months. It was fear, his was that she would find peace and realize that she really didn't need him, that he was too old for her. He knew her past and knew she was afraid she'd leave him. He pulled her tight against him and said, "I'm not going anywhere. I'm always here if you need me."

She gave a contented sigh, closed her eyes and slept while Grissom watched over her.

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"I'm tellin ya, Cath, the newbie was crying," Warrick said as he and Catherine entered a bar called The Drunken Sailor. They were headed to a bed and breakfast just outside of San Francisco for a week and decided to stay the night in Fallon. They rented a room at a hotel in town and decided to hit the bar for dinner.

"Grissom actually yelled at the new lab tech," Catherine said shaking her head. "I knew he was having a hard time since Sara left, but I didn't know it was that bad."

They sat down at the end of the bar, next to two empty seats that they presumed were taken since there was two full glasses at the spots.

"Yeah, Ecklie told Grissom that if he didn't take a week vacation, he was going to get suspended."

The bartender walked up and asked, "What'll it be?"

"I'd like a Sam Adams," Warrick said.

Just then the bartender shivered, like he'd been hit with a cold wind. He looked over to one of the vacant seats that had a beer in front, and shook his head while a small, almost rueful smile, spread across his face. He looked at Catherine and asked, "Anything for you?"

"Yeah, I'll have a martini, extra dry," she said, taking a quick glance at the seat perpendicular from her that the bartender had looked over at.

As Phil grabbed the beer and made the martini, he couldn't help but shake his head again. Of course she'd come now. She always seemed to appear when people needed her most, even if they didn't realize it. He had no doubt it had to do with Sara, the girl who'd come in yesterday. He recognized the name "Grissom" from her conversation with Jessie. He still didn't know why Jessie kept coming by, but who was he to question it.

"Here ya go," he said bringing the drinks.

"Thanks," Warrick said, pulling out a $10 and giving it to Phil.

"Just a piece of advice," Phil said, leaning close, "sitting at the table behind you is a group of Neo Nazi wannabes. I would have thrown them outta my bar years ago, but to be honest, I think it's pretty damn funny to watch them get their asses kicked by the hookers that hang out here. I have no doubt your woman here could handle them all," he said, pointing to Catherine, "but I just thought you should know."

"Thanks for the heads up, man," Warrick said.

"The name's Phil if you need anything," he said as he walked away.

"Phil's right," said a voice next to Catherine. They both turned to see a woman in a Navy uniform sitting at the spot Phil had watched earlier. "They're all talk and no balls."

"Really," Warrick asked.

"Yeah," she said, an amused smile on her face. "In fact we used to have betting pools who'd kick their ass on which night. Shannon, the 500 lbs. hooker, was the favorite," she said pointing to a rather large hooker in clothing that was way too tight for her. When she saw Warrick's face, she laughed and said, "You may be grossed out now, but she pulls the most money out of all the hookers who work this bar."

"Damn," Warrick said, taking another look. When he turned back around, he saw Catherine looking at him and said, "She's got nothing on you, babe."

"Nice save," Catherine said.

"Name's Petty Officer Jessica Dixon," said the sailor, "but everyone calls me Jessie."

"Warrick Brown."

"Catherine Willows."

"Pleasure," Jessie said shaking both their hands. "I didn't mean to eavesdrop, but when you mentioned a Grissom, you weren't talking about Dr. Gil Grissom, the entomologist?"

"Yeah, you've heard of him," Warrick said, surprised.

Jessie laughed and said, "Couple of years ago, my fiancé, Mark," she said pointing to one of the pictures on the wall, "decided he was going to cure me of my arachnophobia, and to do that he took me to a seminar where Dr. Grissom was the key speaker."

"You went willingly," Catherine asked, an eyebrow raised.

"See, he didn't tell me where he was taking me. I'd had a rough night the night before and was nursing one of the worst hangovers of my life when he woke me up saying there was somewhere we had to be. I'm in the lecture hall, drinking coffee and trying to wake up, when they announce Dr. Grissom. Everyone in that hall was damn lucky I didn't grab my side arm, because when they started clapping to welcome him, it felt like a heard of buffolo running around my head."

"Damn, that must have been some hangover," Warrick said.

"You don't even know the half of it. Anyway, he puts on his first slide, and I look up. See, I hadn't really been listening to what the guy had been saying. If I had, I would have known better than look. What he had put up was a giant picture of some spider, I don't remember which kind. I do remember not needing my coffee anymore, and telling Mark that he was lucky I loved him because otherwise I'd kill him." When she ended her story, Warrick and Catherine were beside themselves with laughter. "I'm glad that story amuses you," Jessie said. "Took me four years until I could laugh at that."

"So where's Mark? I'd love to hear his side of the story," Warrick said, looking at the other glass.

A sad look crossed Jessie's face as she answered, "He's dead." When Catherine and Warrick fell silent she continued, "He died about three months ago on a tour in Iraq. Phil's just waiting on his dog tags and then he'll hang them next to his picture." Jessie caught Catherine's stare and saw in her eyes a question she felt she couldn't ask. "Yeah," Jessie answered Catherine's unasked question, "Mike and Terry, the people in the other pictures with dog tags next to them, both died in Iraq. Standing right next to a suicide bomber."

"Wow," Warrick said.

"I'm sorry," Jessie said after a minute. "I didn't mean to dampen the mood. I haven't seen you guys around before, just passing through?"

"Yeah," said Catherine. "Took a week off of work and headed for San Francisco."

"Where ya from," Jessie asked.

"Las Vegas."

"Really," Jessie asked. "Just had a girl here yesterday from there. What do you guys do?"

"We work at the Vegas Crime lab," Catherine answered.

"No shit," Jessie said. "The girl who was in here yesterday works or there, or did anyway. Maybe you know her. Her name was Sara Sidle."

Warrick was in the middle of taking a sip of his beer when he almost spit it out.

"Sara Sidle was here," Catherine shouted.

"Yeah," Jessie answered. "She stopped in here on her way back home."

"She's back in Vegas," Warrick asked.

"That's where she said she was headed. She was nervous about seeing Grissom again, afraid that after all this time seperated he might not want her back."

"Naw, not Griss," Warrick said shaking his head. "He's got it bad for her."

"I'm gonna call him right now," Catherine said, pulling out her cell phone.

"Ma'am," Jessie said catching Catherine's attention, "if Grissom loves her as much as Mr. Brown here says he does, do you really think he'll want to take your phone call right now?"

"Oh," she said, thinking over what Jessie had said and slipping her phone back into her purse, "you're probably right. I'll call him tomorrow and see if Sara showed up," Catherine said. "Right now I'm hungry."

"Yeah, me too," Warrick said.

"I highly recommend the bacon burger with barbeque sauce," Jessie said. "That's my personal favorite, but you have to ask for the sauce, otherwise Phil won't give it to you."

"That sounds really good," Warrick said.

"Best I've ever had," Jessie said.

Phil walked up to Warrick and Catherine and asked, "Can I get you guys a refill? Anything to eat?"

"I'd like a refill and a bacon burger and could you add some barbeque sauce," Warrick said.

"Same for me," Catherine added.

"Hey, do you want anything," Warrick asked Jessie, just to look over and see her seat was empty. "Where'd she go?"

"Where'd who go," Phil asked.

"Jessie," Catherine said. "She was just here."

"Ma'am," Phil said, "I haven't seen Jessie Dixon since she and Mark were sent to the Persian Gulf almost three months ago." After he dropped off their order with Jose, the bar's cook, he headed into his office for a minute. Jessie was here alright and had talked to them. Bacon burger with barbeque sauce, that was her favorite order. He felt the same tingle down his spine that he'd felt every other time she'd made an appearance and knew she was in the room with him. "I don't know why you keep hanging out here," Phil said to her. "It's not that I mind or anything, I just don't think I'd want to hang out here after I died."

"Who says I'm dead," Jessie asked as she watched Phil leave the room. He didn't answer and she didn't expect him to.

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A/N: If you haven't heard Garth Brook's "More Than A Memory" or Keith Urban's "Told You So" I strongly recommend them. I've been debating whether or not I wanted to do a songfic with both those songs, so I just decided to do a chapter with both of them in it. Hope you like it, but I won't know unless you tell me, so please drop a review and tell me what you think.


	3. Meeting Not So Random People

A/N:I'm really excited about all the positive feedback I've gotten. I wrote most of this chapter last night, but considering it was about 2 in the morning when I finished it, I figured I should probably review it when I woke up today. I'm surprised my other chapters turned out as well as they did considering it was late when I finished those as well.

A/N 2: I mean to say something at the end of the last chapter, but that scene where Hank attacks Grissom, that's really happened to me. I have a dog that gets insanely jealous whenever someone gets attention other than her and she really did head butt my boyfriend when he was hugging me. Unfortunately for her, she was so small she just kind of bounced off.

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Despite the fact that it was nearly three o'clock in the after noon, neither Grissom nor Sara had made any real effort to get dressed. Grissom was in a pair of sweat pants and a white t-shirt. When Sara had joined him a few hours earlier, wearing another pair of his sweat pants and one of his shirts, she had argued that she didn't feel like digging through her stuff looking for her sweat pants.

"Besides," she had said, "yours are more comfortable. You don't mind do you," she asked knowing what his answer was by the look in his eyes.

Wrapping his arms around her all he could think about was how happy he was for her to be home. "Honey," he said while he felt her head settle on his shoulder, "you could be wearing nothing at all and I wouldn't mind. Actually, I'd kind of prefer that," he said smiling. His smile only grew bigger when he felt her playfully hit him in the ribs.

That had been around 11. Now they were laying on the couch watching Grissom's box set of "Monty Python's Flying Circus."

"I still can't believe you own these," Sara said as they watched the Spanish Inquisition torture an old woman with soft cushions.

"I find that sometimes the best way to solve some of life's toughest puzzles, you must first take a break with the absurd. I was just surprised you liked Monty Python too. It takes a certain type of person to enjoy this kind of humor."

"It helped me stay sane growing up," Sara said. "I used to sneak downstairs late at night after my parents had to gone to bed and watch it. Sometimes my brother would join me, other times Lefty would."

"Lefty?"

"My half sister. She was left handed so I called her Lefty. I don't remember her name, but I do remember Jack and I always called her Lefty."

"You've never mentioned her before."

"She's one of the ghosts that needs to be dealt with," Sara said. "I remember the Spanish Inquisition was her favorite skit. Even though she was only four, she could recite that by heart."

"Impressive. Whatever happened to her?"

"I don't know. Me, Jack, and Lefty were all sent to different foster homes."

Silence again enveloped them as they continued to watch Monty Python when Gil's cell went off. He sat up, reached for the phone, checked the number on the ID, and made a face. "Grissom," he said into the phone. "Yeah… she's here. How did you…? Hold on." He turned to Sara and said, "It's for you."

"Me," she asked as she took the phone. Gil nodded and she placed the receiver to her ear. "Sidle."

"Sara! It's Catherine."

"Catherine, how'd you know I was back?"

"Two nights ago did you stop at a bar outside of Fallon called The Drunken Sailor?"

"Yeah, how'd you know?"

"Did you meet someone there by the name of Jessica Dixon?"

"Yes," Sara said sitting up. "How did you know that?"

"Warrick and I met her on our way out of state."

"Oh," Sara said, wondering where the conversation was going.

"One minute she was there, telling us about her encounter with you, the next Phil came up and asked us if we needed anything else and she was gone."

"Ok…"

"When we asked where she went, Phil said he hadn't seen her since she left for the Persian Gulf three months ago."

"That's not possible," Sara said. "I just talked with her."

"That's what we thought. So just to make sure we didn't dream up the encounter, I wanted to talk to you and see if what she told us was real."

"This is weird. What are we going to do?"

"Well, Warrick and I are already at the bed and breakfast, and I don't know about you, but I personally prefer resting a week before I go ghost hunting."

Sara gave a half smile and said, "Well, how we meet up at the bar on your way home. That way we can all find out what's going on."

"Works for me," Catherine said. "Oh by the way, welcome home."

"Thanks," Sara said, and ended the call. She handed Grissom his phone back and laid back down. Grissom put his phone on the table, laid down next to her and asked, "Care to fill me in?"

"It's a long story," she said.

"We've go time."

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A few days later, Phil stood behind his bar, bored out of his mind. Lunch was usually slow, but this was ridiculous. Suddenly the door opened and in walked two guys with black vests. One was tall and had brown hair, while the other one was blonde. He liked the brown haired one right away, mainly because of the crew cut he had, although he doubt he had any military experience. Blondie, on the other hand, could use a cut. He could never figure out why guys tried to be like girls with their hair grown long, but whatever. Old habits die hard, especially when you're a Marine.

"This was a waste of our time," Blondie said.

"Following leads is all part of our job, you know that Greg."

"Even when they take us out to the middle of B.F.E.?"

"Actually this is Fallon," Phil said. "B.F.E. is about fifty miles south of here."

"Sorry about my friend here," the other one said. "He has a tendency to speak his mind without really realizing who's around."

"I run a bar, son, six miles away from a Naval base," Phil said. "If you honestly think that something Blondie here said could insult me you're in for a shock."

"Who you calling 'Blondie?'"

"Easy Greg," said brown hair. "We're not here to start trouble. We're just here to get something to eat before we head back into Vegas." As soon as he said that last word, Phil once again felt that shiver go down his spine.

"I'm sorry, Greg is it? I'm sorry I called you Blondie. It's just kinda dead and I was just trying to have fun at your expense. Have a seat an I'll get you both a menu."

"Thanks," brown hair said as they found seats at the bar. Phil quickly looked up and mentally rolled his eyes. Of course they picked the seats right next to Jessie. Everyone picked those seats. Why should they be any different? He handed them each a menu and said, "Let me know when you've decided." He didn't know why Jessie kept showing up for these Vegas CSI's. He'd noticed the insignia on their vests when he'd given them their menus. She usually stuck to runaways who needed some advice, but for some reason, after Sara, she kept coming around for them.

As Greg looked over the menu, he whispered to Nick, "What's up with that guy?"

"Eh, he's just bored," Said a voice on the other side of Nick. He looked over to see a brown haired woman sitting next to him in a tan uniform. "He's really all bark and no bite, unless you find a way to piss him off."

"Oh, ok," Greg said, wondering where she had come from.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt," she said. She extended her hand and said, "I'm Petty Officer Jessica Dixon, but you can call me Jessie."

"I'm Greg and this is Nick," Greg said shaking her hand. After she had shaken Nick's, Greg asked, "So do you come here often?"

"Used to come here all the time after I'd graduated from boot camp," she said looking around the bar. "I was posted at the base just outside of here and a group of us used to come. But then I got posted at bases on the other side of the world, we all did. Mark and I usually got the same postings, and we all made an effort to come back here at least twice a year. My last posting was in the Persian Gulf aboard the _Regan_. Now that I'm back I'm finding I have plenty of free time and no one to spend it with."

"So you just hang out in this bar and talk to random people," Greg asked.

"Something like that," Jessie said with a sad smile. "Although, seems it's not as random as it used to be."

"What do you mean," asked Nick.

"It's just that four days ago I met three other people from the Las Vegas Crime Lab."

"Really. Who," Greg asked.

"Let's see," Jessie said, rubbing her chin with her hand, "I'm not so good with names. I think it was Catherine and Warrick? Do those names sound familiar?"

"Yeah," Nick said. "They took a week off and headed out of town."

"The night before them it was Sara Sidle," Jessie said, watching their reaction. If Warrick and Catherine were any example, they would completely freeze, call Grissom to see if it was true, and then bolt outta like a bat out of hell. She laughed to herself as they did everything she imagined they would.

"Hey Griss," Nick asked into the phone. "Yeah nothing major, but I heard that Sara was back in town and just wanted to see if… She is? … We'll be there in a couple of hours." He closed his phone and then turned to Greg and said, "Let's go."

"She's really back?"

"Yeah, come on," they said racing for the door.

"Could you boys do me a favor," Jessie called out, causing Nick to stop. Unfortunately, Greg's reflexes weren't as good and he slammed into Nick, causing him to slam against the door. Jessie fought an amused smile and asked, "Could you tell Sara I said hello?"

"Yeah," Nick said. "It was nice meeting you."

Jessie turned back around, shaking her head when she saw Phil standing right in front of her.

"So you're finally letting me see you," he asked.

She leaned back in her chair and smiled as she said, "You could have always seen me. But to do that would mean you might have to accept a reality you didn't want to. Therefore, your mind wouldn't let you see me, although you always could sense me. Now the conclusion seems inescapable and you've accepted it, allowing yourself to see me."

"So because I wouldn't accept that you're dead I couldn't see you and now that I've convinced myself you're dead I can?"

A smile played her face and she asked, "Something like that, but who says I'm dead?"

"Are you telling me you're alive," Phil asked. "What your just taking a mental vacation, hanging out here and playing therapist to all the runaways who make their way here?"

"I don't know what's going on," she said with a sigh. "After I heard the explosion that killed Mike and Terry, Mark and I were grabbed and knocked out. When I woke up, Mark was next to me, his head on the ground, and insurgents surrounded me, yelling in Arabic. Next thing I knew I was being taken outside and thrown in a metal box. That's the last thing I remember. Maybe I am dead, or maybe I've literally lost my mind and am just hanging out here. I don't know."

"All this spiritual bullshit gives me a headache," he said.

"Trying being in my shoes," Jessie said shaking her head.

"I do have a question," he said. "What's your obsession with this Sara girl? How's she different from the other girls you've helped?"

Jessie smiled and looked away before leaning forward and asking, "Can you keep a secret?"

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A/N 3: Sorry about the cliffhanger, but I won't reveal that one for awhile, although I will be dropping hints as to what it is. So what do you think? Is Jessie dead or alive? Let me know what you think. Right now I can see this story going either way and I'd really appreciate the input


	4. Favor

A/N: The feedback I've gotten from this has just been amazing and I really appriceate all of it. I've also had a few ideas messaged to me that I've found pretty interesting. I just wanted to take a moment and thank everyone before I started this and I really hope you continue to enjoy it.

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Sara was in the kitchen, deciding what she wanted for lunch when she heard frantic knocking on the door. When she opened it, she was practically tackled when Greg rushed in for a hug.

"Nice to see you too," Sara said laughing. When Greg finally let her go, Nick quickly jumped in to take his place.

"Welcome home," Nick said as he let her go.

"Thanks," she said, closing the door that both Nick and Greg had forgotten about. "Have a seat," she said pointing in the general direction of the living room. "Can I get you anything to drink?"

"No, I'm good," Greg said, sitting on one of the chairs.

"I'm fine, thanks Sar," Nick replied, occupying another chair.

She took a seat on the couch and asked, "So what are you guys doing here?"

"We're here to see you," Greg said. "Nick called Grissom and told him we were coming."

"Didn't he tell you," Nick asked.

"Gil's been with the Undersheriff all afternoon," she answered.

"He can't be happy about that," Nick said. "Everyone knows how he hates dealing with anything political."

"So why didn't you call us to tell us you were back," Greg asked.

"I just needed a few days to readjust before I had any big reunion," Sara said. "Besides, after Catherine found out, I was convinced she would tell everyone for me."

"You called Catherine before me," Greg asked with a hurt look.

"No, she called me. Well, Gil actually," Sara explained. "Look, it's a long story that I don't feel like telling right now. So Gil told you I was back," Sara asked changing subjects.

"No, actually someone in Fallon remembered you and told us you headed back to Vegas," Greg answered.

"Who," Sara asked, already knowing the answer.

"Petty Officer Jessica Dixon," Nick said. "She told us to tell you hi." When Nick saw her face lose all its color he asked, "What's wrong?"

"Four nights ago when Catherine and Warrick passed through, they met her too. That's how they found out I was back. They turned away for a second, but when they looked back she was gone. When they asked Phil, the bartender, about it, he said no one had heard from Jessie since she was sent to the Persian Gulf three months ago."

"That's not possible," Greg said, "we just talked to her."

"Gil and I were going to meet up with Warrick and Catherine when they headed back into town and see if we could figure out what's going on. "

"I'll talk to Brass," Nick said. "Maybe he can find out more about her."

"So what are you going to do now that you're back," Greg asked, sensing a subject change was in order.

"Well, I was hoping to get my job back, but it doesn't look like that's going to happen."

"Why?"

"Ecklie's an ass," Sara answered. "Why else?"

Just then Nick's pager went off. "Looks like Brass found our suspect. We gotta go."

"Thanks for stopping by, you guys," Sara said following them to the door.

"We're just glad you're back," Nick said hugging her goodbye. "I'll be sure to talk to Brass about Jessica Dixon once we finish up with this case."

"Thanks Nick," she said, releasing him. Greg took Nick's spot and hugged Sara. After a socially acceptable time had passed and Greg still hadn't released her, she looked over at Nick pleading for help.

"Come on Casanova, before Grissom catches you puttin' the moves on his girl."

"What's he gonna do about it," he asked jokingly as he let her go.

"Make Greg find a new job," said Grissom from behind.

Greg whipped around and stared at his boss looking like a scared little kid. "What I meant was… I didn't mean anything by… I mean… I'm gonna go now," he said practically running out the door past Nick who could barely contain his laughter.

As soon as they had left, Sara turned to Grissom with an amused smile and said, "That was cruel."

"He deserved it," Grissom said walking up to her and pulling her into a passionate kiss.

When they finally broke apart, Sara asked, "How'd your meeting with the Undersheriff go?"

"Great," he said, holding on to her. "Do you remember that case involving the Undersheriff's goddaughter?"

"You mean the one where Mark Thayer manipulated the evidence?"

"Yeah," Grissom said.

"What about it," Sara asked.

"After I proved Thayer had lied, the Undersheriff told me if I ever needed a favor to let him know. I called that favor in." When he saw that Sara didn't understand, he explained, "I told him that Ecklie wouldn't hire you back after you needed take a break from everything. After reminding him of the whole miniature killer ordeal, he agreed that you deserved to keep your job. You report in Monday."

"You got me my job back," Sara asked, dumbfounded. She couldn't believe he did that. "You should have saved that favor for yourself."

"You, me, what's the difference," he asked pulling her to his chest. "I love you, Sara, and I'd do anything for you."

"I love you too," she said as she burrowed her head into his shoulder and asked, "So when are you marrying me?" When she felt Grissom stiffen, she felt stupid for bringing it up so soon. Of course he didn't want to marry her after all she put him through. "If you don't want to anymore, I understand," she said back peddling.

As soon as the words left her mouth, Grissom's lips covered hers in a demanding kiss. "Yes I still want to marry you, I just wanted to give you sometime to adjust to life here again before I brought it up. I especially didn't want you to feel obligated to marry me just because I got you your job back."

Sara moved to look at him and said, "I don't know where I'd be without you."

"At random bars talking to ghosts," he teased.

Sara tried to glare at him, but failed as soon as he started laughing and joined in herself. When they calmed down a bit, she said, "She appeared to Nick and Greg. That's how they heard I was back."

"Have you checked out the bartender's story," Grissom asked walking into the kitchen.

"I searched for her over the internet and found an article about a Petty Officer Jessica Dixon from Michigan going MIA the same day as a suicide bomber struck an area she was last seen. Then I found another one a few weeks ago that her status had changed fro MIA to MIA presumed dead," Sara said moving to one of the barstools while she watched Grissom. "Nick said he's going to talk to Brass to see what he can find on her."

Grissom walked out to the counter where Sara was and took a seat next to her carrying a sandwich and a glass of milk. "Are you sure you want to go back to that bar?"

"I need to know what's going on," Sara said taking half of Grissom's sandwich. "I mean, I've heard of the recently departed hanging around and messing with the living, but stalking? I need to know why."

"Ok," he said. They ate in silence for a bit before Grissom said, "You know we could get married tonight…"

"Without Catherine? Are you kidding," Sara said, looking at him incredulously. "You remember how she threatened us after everyone found out about our relationship? That from now on she's the first to know about everything, or else? How do you think she'd react if we got married and didn't tell her?"

"We could call her and see if she'd come in early," he suggested.

"And ruin her vacation with Warrick? Are you trying for an early death?"

"Alright," he conceded, "we'll wait until Catherine gets back. Will you at least wear this," he asked as he pulled a ring from his pocket. "I don't know if you'd like it, but it was my great grandmother's…"

"I'd love to," she said smiling and putting her right hand on his cheek as he put the ring on her left hand.

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"Wondered when you'd show up again," Phil said when he saw Sara walk. Behind her were two people who he recognized from a week ago and some other guy he'd never seen before. Judging by the protective stance he had around Sara, Phil guessed that was Grissom.

"You knew I'd come back," Sara asked.

"Yup," he said, wiping down his bar.

"How?"

"Look," he said sighing, "why don't y'all have a seat an I'll get ya somethin' to eat, on the house."

"Will you tell us what's going on," Catherine asked.

"No," Phil answered. "But I will point you in the right direction."


	5. First Day Back

"You said you hadn't seen Jessie since she left for the Persian Gulf," Catherine said as she finished her burger.

"I hadn't," Phil answered. "It wasn't until your two friends came in a few days ago that I saw her for the first time."

"Why's that?"

"I'm a stubborn asshole," he replied. At the stares he got, he said, "I don't get it either, but that's how Jessie explained it to me."

"So who is she," Sara asked. "Where's she from?"

"You know her name already," Phil said. "She spent most of her life growing up in Michigan, but she's originally from the Southwest, California, I think. After she got adopted she was taken out there. Anyway, just before she enlisted she got in touch with her mother's parents. I'd go there if you're looking for anymore information," Phil said as he handed her a card with an address on it.

"You won't tell us anything else," Grissom asked.

"Jessie told me not to," he explained. "Swore me to secrecy. Who am I to break her confidence. Mr. Curtis, her grandfather, will answer any questions you might have."

"If you couldn't see her, how'd you know she was here," Warrick asked.

"That's like asking how you know the wind's blowin. You can't see it, but you can feel it. Besides, she dropped plenty of hints with the people she talked to."

"Like what?"

"For instance your order," Phil said to Warrick. "Jessie's the only one who's ever ordered that. The first day she came in she insisted on having it. I told her we didn't serve that here, just hamburgers. She asked if we had bacon and barbeque sauce. When I said yes she said, 'Then make a side of bacon, put it on top of the burger and add a side of barbeque sauce. It's really not that hard of a concept.' After that, she was one of my favorite customers," he said, laughing at the memory. "It's still not on the menu, so whenever someone orders it, I know she's had a hand in it."

"So why is she hanging out here," Grissom asked.

"I don't know. I guess she just likes it here," Phil said looking up. "Damn. Remember when you came in here and I warned you about the guys here," he asked Sara.

"Yes..."

"Well here comes one of them. Just ignore him and let me handle it, ok?"

"Alright."

"Hey baby," said a voice in Sara's ear as she felt arms snake around her waist, "wanna have a good time?"

Sara removed his arms from her waist and said, "No thanks, not interested."

"Come on baby," he slurred out, "everyone's interested in me, except lesbians. Those are the only ones who turn me down."

"You must know a lot of lesbians," Sara replied.

"Yeah, a lot of them come by here, actually," said the drunk.

"David, get outta here before I call your mother," Phil said.

"My mother? Ha! What's she gonna do?"

"David Jonathan Edwards just what do you think you're doing," demanded someone to everyone's left. They all looked over to see Shannon, the 500 lbs. hooker storm over, grab David by the ear and lead him away. "Because of you, I just lost a John! I didn't raise you to be no obnoxious piece of scum!"

"But mama…"

"Don't you 'but mama' me," she yelled as they exited the bar.

"Told ya'," Phil said to Warrick. "Funny as hell to watch."

"Jessie wasn't kidding when she said they were all talk and no balls," Catherine said.

"You handled yourself pretty well," Phil said to Sara. "Guess I shouldn't be surprised, though."

"Why's that," Sara asked.

"Can't answer that," he said. "But you'll figure it out."

"Have you seen Jessie since Nick and Greg stopped in here," Catherine asked after a few minutes of silence.

"No, actually. Normally she'd at least stop by to look over the place, but she hasn't even done that."

"How can you tell?"

"I get a tingle down my spine whenever she's around. Some of the other regulars feel it to. They'll nervously look around, checking to see if anyone else felt it, then they'll turn back to their drinks and convince themselves they've just had too much to drink. Used to tell myself I was just tired, until I couldn't deny it anymore."

They stayed and talked with Phil a little longer until Catherine said, "Well, it's been interesting, but I've got a shift tomorrow, and I'd actually like to see my daughter before I go to bed."

"Yeah, I start tomorrow, too," Sara said, standing. "Don't want to be late on my first day."

"Ecklie let you back," Warrick asked, surprised.

"No, but the Undersheriff owed me a favor," Grissom said.

"Looking forward to having you back," Catherine said smiling. "Things just haven't felt the same without you."

Just before the reached the door, Phil called out, "Good luck, and if you're ever in town again, come on back."

"Thanks," Sara said, pushing the door open and leaving the bar.

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"Nervous?"

Sara smiled over at him from the passenger's seat and said, "Maybe a little bit. "

Grissom smiled back and opened his door, and made his way toward the building. "Although," Sara said when she had caught up with him, "I would have preferred being on time."

"We're only five minutes late. Besides, it's not my fault," Grissom said with a grin.

"Not your fault?" Sara asked. "You grabbed me while I was getting dressed!"

"I can't help it if I can't resist you, especially right after you finish a shower…"

"So if I want to be on time from now on I'll just have to start changing in the bathroom," she said, pretending to think it over. When she saw Grissom's look, a combination of horror and disappointment, she laughed and said, "Being on time is overrated."

As soon as she entered the lab, Sara received a chorus of "welcome backs" from everyone she ran into. When she finally made her way to break room, the whole team was there.

"Sara," someone on her right yelled at a pitch she was certain could shatter glass.

"Ronnie, hi," she said trying not to cringe.

"It's so good to see you! I'm so glad you're back," she said pulling Sara into a hug.

"Oh, ok," Sara said awkwardly with her hands still at her sides. She brought them up and lightly patted her back. After and awkward minute, Sara said, "Ok, that's enough."

"Oh, right I forgot," Ronnie said, "you're not big on personal contact."

"Yeah, it's a big thing with me," Sara said with a forced smile and tried not to roll her eyes.

"But guess what?"

"What," Sara asked, feeling the beginnings of a headache. She started to remember why Ronnie annoyed her so much when they first met.

"You missed assignments and Catherine assigned us together. Isn't that great?"

"I'm speechless," Sara said, casting Catherine a dark look. Catherine looked away in an effort not to laugh. "Hey, how about you go get your gear, and meet me at my vehicle."

"Why do you get to drive?"

"Do you know where 6 Mile is?"

"No," Ronnie said after thinking for a minute.

"Then I get to drive."

"Where is it? Is it anywhere near here? The strip?"

"Ronnie," Sara said, interrupting her. "20 question rule."

"Oh, ok," Ronnie left to go get her kit.

"Why do you hate me," Sara asked Catherine. "What have I ever done to you?"

"She's the only one who's not already working a case," Catherine said. "Besides, you balance each other out. You're calm and in control, and she's, well, Ronnie."

"Thanks," Sara said. "Payback is a bitch. Just remember that." Then she turned to Grissom and said, "May I have the keys?"

"Huh?"

"You drove here and I need the keys to get to the crime scene."

"Oh, yeah, sure," he said fishing his pockets for the keys. "There is no 6 Mile," he said as he handed them to her.

"Yeah, but she doesn't know that," Sara said with a smile.

"Sara Sidle, welcome back," said Ecklie as he walked in.

"Thank you," Sara said, not even bothering to force a smile.

"Just wanted to let you know I'm going to be watching you. The Undersheriff my have stepped in on your behave, but if you think that changes anything, you've got another thing coming."

"Are you threatening me?"

"I'm just letting you know that if you so much as look at me the wrong way then…"

"Then what, Conrad?"

"Undersheriff," he said as whipped around to see him standing in the doorway.

"What I'm sure you meant to say to Ms. Sidle is that you're happy to see her back and if there's anything you could possibly do for her, you'd be more than happy to."

"Of course, that's exactly what I meant," he said, shrinking in the Undersheriff's presence.

"I just wanted to stop by and wish you good luck on your first shift," he said to Sara.

"Thank you sir," she said smiling. She really did enjoy watching Ecklie squirm.

"That's one fine CSI you got there, Conrad," he said turning to Ecklie. "Who knows, maybe someday soon she'll have your job."

"My job," he said, eyes growing wide. "Sara, if there's anything you need, please don't hesitate to ask," he said as he quickly exited the room.

"I don't want his job," Sara said to the Undersheriff.

"Yeah, but he doesn't know that," he replied with a smile. "He really is an annoying little worm, but he gets the paperwork done on time. Let me know if I can do anything else for you."

"Yes sir," Sara said. "If you'll excuse me, I have a crime scene to get to."

Brass met them there. "Hey," he said hugging her, "they said you'd be back today. How you doing?"

"I'm good," she said as he released her and led her to the DB. "So what have you got for us?"

"A blast from the past. Don't know if you'll be able to tell who it is, considering half his face is missing," he said entering the room with the body.

"Mark Thayer," Sara said shaking her head.

"His perjury trial was just coming to close," Brass said as Sara examined the body and Ronnie started looking around the scene. "Word is the DA nailed him, and he's got pending perjury trials all over the country, none of them looking good for him. Also, he's getting his ass sued off in civil court by all the families who suffered as a result of his creative experiments."

She noticed the gun on the floor and asked, "Did the humiliation finally get to him?"

"You know how it works around here," Brass said. "If it looks like a duck, quacks like a duck, odds are it's not a duck."

Sara smiled and said, "True."

"Sara come look at this," Ronnie said near the door. Sara walked over and saw what caught the young CSI's attention.

"This footprint looks a lot bigger than our vic's," Ronnie said.

"Yeah, Thayer looks like an 8, and this is at least a 14. Collect an impression of it and let's see if we can find out who our mystery guy is."

"Hey, you know what they say about big feet, right?"

"I know you have 12 questions left," Sara said standing. This was going to be a long night. Suddenly Brass's radio went off and he put it to his ear.

"We got a triple homicide just reported, and Catherine's asking for backup," Brass said clipping his radio to his belt.

"Ronnie, you can go," Sara said. "Just give me the shoe impression."

"You sure," Ronnie asked handing the impression over.

"11," Sara replied as she took the evidence and stored it.

Ronnie made a face and left with Brass.

"Ma'am, do you need anything," an officer asked from the door.

"No, I'm good in here. Could you just keep watch outside?"

"No problem. Let me know if you need anything."

"Sure," Sara said.

She had just about finished up with the scene when she heard shots fired outside the door. She dove behind the chair Thayer's body occupied. She peered around it to see the body of the officer standing guard hit the ground. She pulled her two-way radio off her belt and said quietly, "CSI requesting backup! Shots fired, and there's an officer down!"

As she finished her message a second time she heard footsteps getting closer. She put her radio down and pulled her gun out. She tried to control her breathing as the footsteps got closer. After what seemed like an eternity, she carefully looked around the side of the chair just to have a fist collide with the left side of her face, the impact of the hit causing her gun to go flying. As she lay on the ground, stunned, she heard Grissom's voice frantically yelling her name from her radio. She opened her eyes to see a giant of a man standing over her with a 9-millimeter.

"Ain't no one gonna find out what happened here," he said, moving the gun to aim at her head. "Not the police, not some bitch ass investigator."


	6. Secrets Revealed

"Hey Gil, you got a minute," Jim asked when he finally caught to him at the crime lab.

"Aren't you supposed to be on that triple homicide," Grissom asked as he looked up from the file he'd been reading as he'd made his way down the hall.

"O'Riley's on it. Got something for you," he said as he handed Grissom a file. He put the file he'd been reading under his arm as he opened the one Brass gave him. "What is it?"

"The information Nick asked for on Jessica Dixon," Brass answered.

"Born on September 15, 1977," he read aloud. "She grew up in Livonia, MI. Graduated Valedictorian from Adlai E. Stevenson High School in 1995, entered boot camp two months after graduation… None of this has any connection to Sara."

"That's what I thought, so I pushed deeper. I saw that she had been in the foster care system and thought there might be a connection there, and guess what PO Dixon's name was before she was adopted?"

Grissom searched the file until he found the name. He looked up at Brass, eyes full of shock. Before he could say anything, Sara's voice came over the radio, "CSI requesting backup! Shots fired and there's an officer down!" Fear filled Grissom's eyes as he met Jim's.

"Come on, I'll drive," Jim said as they made their way to the parking lot.

Gil took the radio and shouted into it, "Sara! Sara! Hold on! Sara, if you can hear me, answer! Sara!" Fear he hadn't felt since he'd received that final miniature gripped him as Brass drove as fast as he could to Sara's crime scene.

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_This cannot be happening_, Sara thought_. Fuck Catherine, I should have married Gil when I had the chance._

"Any last words, bitch," he asked as he waved the gun above her.

"Your hand's too high on the stock," a voice said to Sara's right. She looked over and saw Jessie sitting in a chair in the corner. "If you hold it there when you fire, the slide will shoot back and give your hand a nasty wound that hurts like hell. Found that out tthe hard way," she said standing.

"G-get back," he said. "I'll kill her. If you don't believe me just watch! I killed that motherfucker for helping my sister's murder!"

"If you kill her," Jessie said slowly moving forward causing him to back up, "you'll have the whole LVPD after you for killing one of their own as opposed to grudging respect getting rid of one more sleaze bag. It was her boss that proved him for the fraud he was."

Jessie continued to move forward until she had positioned herself between Sara and the shooter. "Get back," he yelled again. "I'll kill you!" When Jessie laughed, he got angry and pulled the trigger. Just like Jessie had predicted, because his hand was up to high, the slide cut his hand, causing him to drop the gun in pain. When he looked up and saw there wasn't a scratch on her, he yelled, "I shot you! Why aren't you dead?!?"

"Sorry," she said with a rueful smile, "some camel jockey beat you to it." When he just stood there shaking, Jessie said, "This would be the ideal time for you to run away." As the gunman sprinted out of the room, Jessie kneeled in front of Sara and asked, "You alright?"

"I'm fine," Sara said, sitting up and scooting away from Jessie.

Jessie held up both her hands and said, "I'm not going to hurt you." Then she pointed to where Sara had been hit and said, "You're gonna wanna put ice on that to keep the swelling down. You're gonna have black eye for a while, but that's not bad, all things considering…"

"What are you doing here," Sara whispered. "What do you want with me?"

"I didn't mean to frighten you," she replied with a sad smile. "I was just returning a favor."

"What favor," Sara yelled. "I've never even met you before that night in the bar."

"So you don't remember me? Not even a little," she asked sadly. "Maybe if you thought really hard about it…"

"No! I don't remember you! I came here to processes a crime scene! I didn't expect the fucking Spanish Inquisition!"

"No one expects the Spanish Inquisition," Jessie said quietly. "Our chief weapon is surprise."

"You're quoting Monty Python at a time like this?"

"I was at a seminar once, where a student asked the key speaker what he did when a case or some problem stumped him. He answered, 'I've found that to solve some of life's toughest puzzles, you must first take a break with the absurd.'"

"Gil," Sara breathed. "You were at a seminar where Gil spoke at?"

"Ask Catherine or Warrick for the story," Jessie said. "I've already told them."

Sara continued to stare at Jessie for awhile, when Jessie said, "You really don't remember me?"

"No," Sara said. She watched as Jessie, still kneeling in the same spot, closed her eyes and put her head down. "Would you please, just leave me alone?" Suddenly the room morphed from the crime scene to a room she hadn't seen since she was 12 years old. "What's going on?"

"It's a vision," Jessie explained. "I wanted to remind you of the favor I owed you."

"How did you do this," Sara asked barely above a whisper.

"I have no idea. Just roll with it and look over there," Jessie said pointing to the other side of the room.

Sara looked over to see a sight that had played in her mind countless times over the past few months. Her mother stood there, breathing heavily over her father's lifeless body, the knife in her hand covered with blood. Sara, Jack, and Lefty all stood behind her, a combination of fear and shock in their eyes. Sara remembered that she'd called 911 a few minutes before, so the cops should arrive at any minute. Suddenly, her mother turned to Lefty and said, "This is all your fault! If you'd never shown up this never would have happened. You ruined my marriage you little bitch and now I'm gonna send you to Hell so you can join your father."

Lefty was six years old. Sara was helping her get ready for bed when they had heard their father yell in pain. Sara had told her to stay in the bathroom, but of course she didn't listen. She followed Sara out into the kitchen, holding that stuffed dog, Southpaw, Sara had given her for her birthday. When her mother had started yelling at her, Sara had looked over to see Lefty start shaking with fear. The look in her eyes was too much, and without a second thought, she had stepped in front of Lefty and said, "No."

"What did you say to me," her mother demanded.

"I said, 'No.' I won't let you hurt my sister." Sara watched as this all played out from the corner, tears filling her eyes. She looked over at Lefty to see something akin to hero worship in her eyes.

Her mother backhanded her, and then stabbed Jack in the arm when he'd tried to intervene. Just as Laura was about to attack Lefty, the police stormed in and took the knife from her.

"You saved my life that day," Jessie said, bringing her back from the memory. "After that, you always seemed larger than life to me. I was adopted soon after I was put into the system and my family moved to Michigan. I've been waiting all these years to repay you." Something behind her caught her attention and she looked back. When she faced Sara again, she said, "Go talk to my mother's father. He has something for you."

Suddenly, the vision faded, Jessie was gone, and she was back at the crime scene. She looked up in time to see Grissom come sprinting into the room.

After he checked to make sure she wasn't seriously injured, he pulled her into his arms and said, "That's the second time I thought I'd lost you. Fuck Catherine, as soon as the EMT's clear you, I'm marrying you."

Sara smiled and buried herself in his embrace.


	7. The Letter

A/N: I've finished the next chapter and am about halfway done with the one following. Those two chapters explain what happened to Jessie, so I want to post them at the same time. Should be done with them soon. Could be a couple of hours or a couple of days, all depending on my Muse. But I'll try to hurry.

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Sara walked out of Ecklie's office rubbing her head where she felt a tension headache forming. He had a hard time believing her story, and wouldn't have if the apprehended gunman hadn't said the same thing. But he still felt the need to grill her for over an hour, pushing her to the edge of her patience.

"Hey, Sara," Warrick said when he saw her. "Heard what happened to you. How you holdin up?"

"I'm fine," she said giving him a weak half smile.

"That's gotta hurt," he said pointing to her eye.

She shrugged and said, "Not as bad as the pain I've got in my ass right now."

"Just get done with Ecklie?"

"How'd you guess," she asked, smiling a little more. They made their way to Grissom's office, where they could hear Grissom and Catherine having an intense argument.

"Look, all I'm saying is you should wait a few months and have a nice ceremony. What's so hard about that?"

"This isn't open for discussion," Grissom said. "You said you wanted to be informed whenever something happened between me and Sara, and so I'm telling you. The whole team is invited to come, but I don't care if it's just me and Sara there. So are you coming tonight or not?"

"Griss, you've waited six months, what's one more?"

"I have a compromise," Sara said walking into the room. Judging by the looks on Grissom's and Catherine's face, they hadn't realized anyone else had heard them. "I'm with Gil on this one, I don't want to wait any longer to get married. But what I will agree to is whenever I get pregnant, I'll let you throw me a baby shower."

"You'll let me make it as big as I want," Catherine asked skeptically.

"Please keep the guest list to people I know," Sara said with a sigh.

"Deal," Catherine said. "But one week from now we are going to have a group celebratory dinner for your wedding, which you two will be paying for."

"Fine," Grissom said, relieved that Catherine was going along with it. "Could you get everyone together?"

"Warrick will have to do that," Catherine replied.

"On it," he said moving as quickly as he possibly could from there.

"Why does Warrick have to do it," Sara asked.

"Because as your Maid of Honor, we've got a lot of work to do if you're getting married in two hours."

"Not to sound like a bitch, but who said you were going to be my maid of honor?"

"Who else are you going to ask?"

Suddenly Ronnie rushed to the office door and said, "This is so exciting! My first Vegas wedding! Sara, if you need a Maid of Honor, I would love to do be it!"

"I'm sorry Ronnie, but I already asked Catherine."

"Oh," she said sadly.

"But Warrick might need some help getting everyone to the chapel on time."

Ronnie's face suddenly lit up and she quickly took off in search of Warrick.

"Like I said," Catherine said walking up to Sara and putting her arm around her shoulders, "we've got a lot of work to do."

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Ronnie could barely contain her excitement. Not only was Sara back, but she was getting married. She didn't want to complain aloud, but Grissom had seemed really off ever since Sara left. Granted, she'd been working with him for less than a year, but still. When you start yelling at lab techs and make one of them cry, odds are you're not fully on your game. But ever since Sara came back, he seemed happier, at least what she could tell from the one shift he'd been on.

She partly blamed herself what happened to Sara tonight. If she hadn't left, maybe tonight would have turned out differently. Ronnie felt a slight pang of sadness for everything Sara had been through. She was happy that Sara and Grissom had found happiness together, they both deserved it.

She made her way to where Sara and Catherine were getting ready and knocked on the door. "Sara, they asked me to tell you that everything's going to get started in about ten minutes."

"Thanks Ronnie," she heard through the door.

Ronnie was too worked up to go in to the chapel and sit down, so she hung out in the back area waiting for Sara. She was so excited she had chills going down her spine. Suddenly she felt a hand on her shoulder and jumped out of surprise.

"I'm sorry," said a voice behind her. "I didn't mean to scare you."

Ronnie turned around to see a woman in a Navy uniform standing behind her. "It's ok," she said looking her over, "Guess I'm all nerves right now and just can't concentrate."

"Really. Why's that?"

"Two colleagues of mine are getting married, and I really look up to one of them. She's been through Hell and still finds a way to put on a half smile and gives me a backhanded compliment she thinks I don't catch."

"So you don't think she likes you much," the woman asked.

"She's more reserved, and I'm, well, not. Although, when she left, she did leave me her vest with the words "Good luck" on it."

"Which means she sees potential in you," the woman said. "My guess is that she sees a lot of herself in you. She may have been like that at one time, excited about her work and full of questions, but then life got in her way and she became more reserved."

"I never thought about it like that," Ronnie said.

"People usually are deeper than we give them credit for," the woman said. "Not always, but usually. Take the sarcastic comments and backhanded compliments in stride, because that's just the way Sara is. Just make sure she can count on you, and don't be afraid to give back what she throws at you, she'll respect you for it."

"You talk as if you know her," Ronnie said, once again looking over the woman. She did see some resemblance between the two: same hair color, same eye color, and they had a similar facial structure, but that was it. "Are you somehow related?"

The woman gave a half smile and said, "Something like that. You should probably get back into the chapel, but could you do me a favor? Could you give this to Sara sometime after the wedding for me," the woman asked handing her an envelop.

"Sure," Ronnie said. "But I'm sure if you hung around you could give it to Sara yourself."

"I don't think I'd be welcomed," she said with a sad smile. "Oh, do you have a pen? I just want to write her name on the envelop."

"Yeah, sure," Ronnie said, digging through her purse and handing her one.

"Thank you so much," the woman said handing her the pen and the envelop. As Ronnie opened her purse, and looked down to put them both in, the woman said, "It was nice talking to you Ronnie."

Ronnie's quickly looked up just to see that the woman was gone. She felt the same chill go down her spine she had felt earlier, just before the woman showed up. She decided the best thing she could do was go and sit down and then give Sara the envelop later like the mysterious woman had asked.

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After the ceremony, everyone was hanging around the chapel's entryway giving the new couple their congratulations.

Ronnie walked up to Sara and asked, "Sara, can I talk to you for a minute?"

"Sure," Sara said. She hadn't seen Ronnie look this serious since her last case with her when they met the abused wife. "What's wrong?"

"Right after I told you they wanted to get started in 10 minutes, a woman came up and asked if I could give you something. She started talking like she knew you, and I noticed that you two shared a slight resemblance I asked if you were related. She said something like that, asked for a pen, signed this envelop," she said pulling it out of her purse, "and when I looked up, she was gone."

"Did she tell you her name," Sara asked, already knowing who it was.

"No, but what creeped me out was she knew my name and I know we didn't do introductions. She wore a khaki Navy uniform and I noticed when she signed the envelop, she used her left hand. Who is she Sara," Ronnie asked, a scared look on her face.

"It's ok Ronnie," Sara said. "Her name is Jessie and she's my half sister." Sara left out the part that she was probably dead because she was certain Ronnie wouldn't be able to handle it. "She probably heard your name when I shouted it and she has a nasty habit of slipping away when no one is looking. She's just creepy like that." When it looked like Ronnie didn't believe her she said, "Do you trust me?"

"Yes," Ronnie said nervously.

"Then trust me when I say you've got nothing to worry about."

"Ok," Ronnie replied, visibly relaxing. "Did you guys get into a fight or something? She said something about you not wanting her here."

"We haven't been on the best of terms," Sara said.

"That's sad," Ronnie said. "Well, anyway, congratulations. I'm gonna get going, and I'll see you next shift," she said pulling Sara into a hug.

'What the hell' Sara thought as she actually returned it.

As they made their way back to the townhouse, Sara stared at the envelop in her hands, but didn't open it.

"Is everything alright," Grissom asked, looking over at his new wife.

"Jessie was there, at the chapel. She gave this to Ronnie and freaked her out," she said. "I don't know what to make of her. On the one hand, she saved my life, so I'm not afraid of her, but on the other… What does she want from me? Is it just to say goodbye? Have we only met so we can part again? What's the point of that?"

"Tracy Gold once said, 'I don't believe things happen in vain. Things happen for a reason.' Perhaps if you give it time, the answer will reveal itself," Grissom said as he reached for her hand.

A few minutes later they pulled into the townhouse and made their way inside. Sara slowly sat on the couch while Grissom let Hank out. When he came back into the room, he saw Sara reading the letter with a frown on her face.

"What's wrong?"


	8. 6289

A/N: You can thank being bored out of my mind druing my political science class for this chapter. I got all the typing done and just finished going over it. Please let me know what you think!

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"Sara," Grissom said.

"What?"

"What does the letter say?"

"See for yourself," she said standing and handing him the letter.

Grissom pulled out his glasses and read it.

_6289_

_You're going to need that number_

_Jessie_

_P.S. Congratulations_

After Grissom had read it twice he turned the paper over to see if there was anything written on the other side. "That's it," he asked.

"Apparently," Sara said from the kitchen. She came out holding a glass of water and leaned against the wall that separated the living room from the kitchen. "This is just getting too weird. Tomorrow I'm going to visit Jessie's grandfather to see if he has any answers."

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The 1/2 hour drive to Henderson was painfully short. When she knocked on the door, an older man opened the door. "Are you Mr. James Curtis?"

"I am," he said gruffly.

"I'm Sara Sidle, I'm with the Las Vegas Crime Lab." _Shit_, she thought as soon as the routine words left her mouth. _Now he'll think he's involved with the police._

He looked her over for a few moments before saying, "I was wondering when you'd finally show up."

"Excuse me," Sara asked, taken off guard. Of all the things she imagined he'd say to her, this was not it.

"You're Danny Sidle's legitimate kid, right?" When she nodded, he smiled and said, "I remember Danny growing up, he always loved to hang around my daughter. I don't like speaking ill of the dead, but the man was a real bastard. Never had his priorities straight. Always wanted to blame him for what happened to Sara, my daughter, but I couldn't. That was all her, although he certainly didn't help matters. Well, I'm sure you don't want to stand outside in the heat, come on in," he said stepping aside and allowing her entry.

"Your daughter's name was Sara," she asked after he had led her into the living room. She sat down in one of the chairs and he took one opposite.

"Yup, prolly where you get your name from. He tried asking her out over the years, but he could never make up his mind between Sarah and Laura. Well, you know who he chose in the end. Didn't stop him from having an affair with my daughter years later, although she should have known better."

"What happened to your daughter?"

"Caught trying to sell Jessie for drugs. She was recently paroled. She's visited a few times, and I think she may have finally gotten her life straight, although she never asks about Jessie. She prolly figures I don't even know about her. My wife and I met Jessie for the first time 14 years ago. That was just before my wife died. Anyway, I don't really feel like telling her the truth Sara what really happened to Jessie, so I guess everything works out."

"I suppose it does," Sara said, not really sure what to say.

"I take it you've met Phil," he said after a minute.

"Yeah, met him about a week ago, and I finally worked up the courage to visit," Sara said, guessing it was a good idea not to mention the fact that Jessie had sent her.

"Liked him the minute I met him, prolly because he's a Marine vet like me. Couldn't figure out why Jessie wanted me to drive 7 ½ hours just to go to a bar. Not like there's any near here or anything. But she wore me down and finally I went. Liked the place so much I go up there at least once a month. Been awhile since my last visit, though. Things have been kind of tough the past few months."

"Yeah…"

"Anyway," he said standing, "Jessie left something for you, said I should give it to you if you ever found your way here." He came back a few minutes later carrying a trunk. Sara moved and knelt in front of it to examine it. On it was a combination lock that had four slots where you needed to dial individual numbers. "She never did tell me the combination, just that it was 'Navy'. Never could figure out what she meant by that."

Just then Sara's cell phone when off. "Excuse me," she said standing, "it's work." After she walked away a few feet she flipped it open. "Sidle."

"Shouldn't you be answering the phone 'Grissom'?"

"What do you want Greg, I'm kind of in the middle of something…"

"Look, I'm just trying to save you some aggravation if Grissom calls and feels hurt you're not using his name."

"If you don't tell me why you called in 30 seconds I'm hanging up."

"Fine, fine. Try to help someone… Anyway, I was calling to see if you'd do me a favor."

"What's up?"

"See I got this really big date Friday and I can't get anyone to cover for me. Tonight's my night off and I noticed you had Friday off, so I was wondering if you'd be willing to trade."

"Sure, that'd be fine. Anything else?"

"Nope, that's it. Thanks Sara."

"No problem," Sara said, ending the call and closing her phone. She started to make her way back to the trunk when she stopped, opened her phone and stared at the keypad.

"Somethin' wrong," asked Mr. Curtis.

"6289," Sara said realization dawning on her, "that spells NAVY on a phone keypad." She quickly made her way to the trunk, put in the code on the lock, causing it to pop open.

"I'll be damned," he said. "It really was that simple."

Sara opened the trunk to see Southpaw, the stuffed dog she'd given Jessie, sitting on the top. Smiling, Sara picked it up, just to see a stuffed bear right next to it.

"Alex," she said grabbing the bear.

"'Scuse me," Mr. Curtis asked.

"This was mine," she said examining the stuffed animal. It really wasn't in bad condition, all things considered. "I named him Alex, after Alexander the Great. I had just read a book on him when I got the bear."

"How old were you at the time?"

"Eight."

"What were you doing reading a book on Alexander the Great at age 8?"

"We really didn't have that big of a selection at my house," Sara said. "And I'd read everything else we had. Although, to be honest I didn't read much of the book, just looked at all the pictures. I wonder what she was doing with him?"

"You'll have to ask her that," Mr. Curtis said. When Sara looked at him he continued, "I've been planning on visiting her, but it's expensive to fly to Maryland, so I can only go once every couple of months."

"Maryland," Sara asked. "Why not bring her closer?"

"No point in moving her really," he answered. "Bethesda is one of the best hospitals around."

"Bethesda? Bethesda Naval Hospital?"

"Yes," Mr. Curtis said, looking at her suspiciously.

"It's just that… I thought she was dead," Sara stammered.

"Where'd you hear that?"

"I read an article that the Navy had changed her status from MIA to MIA presumed dead."

"You read that from the Detroit Free Press, didn't you," he asked.

"Yes."

He gave an annoyed sigh and said, "Those morons are too busy reporting on the Detroit Mayor's latest sex scandal to get this kind of thing straight. They later posted a retraction, saying they had gotten two similar names confused. Jessie is actually at Bethesda in a coma and on life support."

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A/N 2: The whole thing about the Detroit Mayor's sex scandle is really happening right now and is dominating the news. He swore under oath saying he wasn't having an affair with his chief of staff, and then they found text messages that say otherwise. All of which have been leaked. It's a fun time to be leaving in suburban Detroit right now, let me tell ya...


	9. Go Back

Judy, the night shift secretary at CSI, had just sat down at her desk when she felt a tingle down her spine. "Stupid air conditioning," she muttered. "You'd think they'd turn it off when the sun goes down…"

"Seems like that would be common sense," said a voice on the other side of her desk. "The desert is, after all, cold at night." Judy looked up to see a woman in a tan uniform standing in front of her. The woman gave an apologetic smile and said, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to frighten you. I have a habit of just kind of appearing in front of people without any warning. To quote my sister, I'm just creepy."

"It's alright," Judy said, forcing her heart to slow down. "Is there anything I can help you with?"

"I hope so," the woman said, pulling out an envelope. "I was wondering if you could give this to Dr. Grissom for me."

"Sure, but if you wait a few moments, you can give it to him yourself."

"I can't wait," the woman replied, handing Judy the envelope. "Thank you so much for your help."

As the woman walked away, Judy asked, "May I have your name so I can tell him who left this?"

She turned around, gave a half smile that reminded Judy of Sara Sidle's and said, "He'll know who sent it."

Judy looked down at the envelope, felt another shiver go down her spine, and when she looked up again, the woman was gone. "Strange," Judy said.

"What is?"

"Oh, hello Dr. Grissom. It's nothing, just that a woman dropped something off for you, and it's almost as if she appeared, and then disappeared, out of thin air…"

"You said she left something for me," Grissom asked. "Did she give you a name?"

"No, she just said you'd know who she was."

"What was she wearing?"

"A tan military uniform," Judy said.

"They're called khakis," Ronnie said, walking up. "They're worn by chief petty officers and up." When Grissom and Judy stared at her, she said, "My uncle was in the Navy. I used to visit him all the time. Almost joined myself until I realized it just wasn't for me."

"Thank you Ronnie," Grissom said, nodding to her. He took the envelope from Judy and headed to his office. He sat down at his desk and began to read the letter the envelope contained.

_Dr. Grissom,_

_Hopefully by now you've figured out who sent this letter to you. I first just wanted to give you my congratulations since I was unable give them last night. It's not that I didn't want to be at your wedding, I just didn't think __my presence would be welcomed, all things considered. Sara's been through enough, she didn't need me ruining her big night._

_This brings me to the reason I've written this letter. Sara has had a hard hand dealt to her since she was little, and nothing seems to have gotten easier for her. I can't tell you how happy I am that she's found someone who's made her happy. That being said , if you hurt her, your ass is mine, and you'll be lucky if I only kill you. And if your team thought finding Natalie was hard, just wait until they start looking for someone who isn't bound by physical restrictions._

_I have no doubt that I will never need to make good on my threat. From what I've seen, you love her too much. However, I just wanted to throw that out there, just so we understand each other. _

_Jessie_

_P.S.__Tell Sara I've found our brother. The DNA results__ and information on him is__ in the trunk my grandfather gave her._

As soon as he'd finished reading the letter, Nick knocked on his office door. "Hey, the Sheriff's here and wants to talk to you. Apparently, a relative of his was killed and they need your help identifying the bugs they found on him."

"I'll be right there," he told Nick. As the younger man walked away, Grissom sighed while he put the letter in his pocket. _This is gonna be a long night_, he thought.

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Sara was in the townhouse going through the trunk Jessie had left for her not sure what to think. After informing Sara Jessie was alive he told her what happened.

After the suicide bomber had detonated his explosives, Jessie and Mark were both captured in the chaos that immediately followed. The insurgents had executed Mark and sent the video to Al Jezeera. After that, they had taken Jessie and thrown her in a metal box and left her outside. The doctors speculated that she received some water while she was trapped there, but for the most part, she was forced to endure the desert's heat during the day and chill during the night, the temperatures being amplified by her metal prison. It was when Marines were clearing out the insurgents' base that they found her, almost two days later. She was unconscious when they found her and brought her to a local hospital. She was then transported to a ship headed back to America, and from there taken to Bethesda.

Sara was pulling things out of the trunk when Grissom came home. By the look on his face, she could tell it had been a hard shift.

"Long night," she asked.

"You could say that," he said taking a seat on the couch behind her. "The Sheriff's brother was found dead in a field two hours before my shift started. When Al was cleaning the body, he found different bugs crawling all over it, none of which were native to that field."

"Body dump?"

"Yeah. Turns out his wife and her lover killed him, dumped the body, and were making a run for Mexico. They were caught at the border and are being sent back to stand trial."

"Wow," was all Sara could say. She would never ceased to be amazed at all the petty reasons people killed each other.

"Anyway, enough about my night. How'd it go with Jessie's grandfather," he asked.

"Interesting," Sara said. "Apparently she's still alive, although she is in a coma. He showed me the last medical report the doctors gave him and there's not much brain activity. She's on life support, and apparently doctors have been pushing him to pull the plug and donate her organs. He asked me what I thought he should do," Sara said. "I didn't have an answer for him then, but I'm going to see him again in a week, so hopefully I'll have something to say to him. How would you answer him?"

"I don't know," he answered honestly. "If there's no brain activity, than she'll probably never wake up again. Although there have been instances where people have woken from commas years after they first slipped into them. In the end, it'll have to be his call."

"I just don't know what to make of all this," she said, moving onto the couch and leaning into Grissom, who immediately wrapped his arms around her. As soon as her body met his, Grissom felt paper crinkling in his pocket, causing him to remember about the letter he'd gotten. He debated whether or not to tell Sara about the letter when she looked up and saw his internal debate. "You might as well tell me," she said, breaking the silence.

He sighed and said, "Jessie left a letter for me with Judy, just before shift."

"What does she want now," Sara asked, a cross between annoyance and worry in her voice.

"Well, most of the letter is private," he said, thinking it best not to tell Sara how Jessie had threatened him, "but she did tell me that she had thought she had found your brother and that the information was in the trunk.

Sara moved away from Grissom to sit in front of the trunk and started digging until she finally found the envelope containing several documents. The first one she pulled out was a copy of Jessie's Will. Behind that were several other legal documents, followed by a DNA analysis and information on the man Jessie believed was their brother.

"This is what she wanted me to find," Sara said reading it. "She wanted me to find Jack."

"I'll ask Brass to see if he can find him," Grissom said, moving so Sara was between his legs and read the DNA analysis over her shoulder.

They were silent for a moment when Sara leaned back into him and asked, "She threatened you, didn't she? In the letter."

Grissom smirked and said, "How'd you know?"

"Because that's what I would do if it was me," she said smiling up at him. "May I read the letter?"

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"If there's no body, what are we doing here," Nick asked Brass as they surveyed a living room. Clearly a struggle had gone on here, but there was no blood or anything else to suggest murder.

"Slow night, what can I say," Brass replied as he moved to let Ronnie through. "Neighbors heard a scream and knew the resident had a crazy ex-boyfriend. I should probably mention there was a restraining order against him and we found his abandon car about a block away. Nobody's seen him since he got off work an hour ago."

"If you want start processing this room, I'll start checking the other rooms for signs of struggle," Ronnie suggested.

"Yeah, ok."

Ronnie walked out of the living room and made her way to the hallway. There were two doors on the left side, three on the right. She entered the first one on the left, and saw it was a bathroom. It looked undisturbed, so she moved on. She entered the room across from the bathroom, and saw what looked like a spare bedroom. She had a weird feeling as she moved through it, but didn't notice anything out of the ordinary. She opened the closet to see it full of clothes. None of them looked disturbed so she made her way out the room.

As soon as she took her first step back into the hallway she felt a shiver run down her spine. She shook her head and made her way into the next room. As soon as she entered it, she felt something grip her right sleeve. She looked to see what could have caught it, but nothing was there. She walked farther in, and this time she felt something grab her right arm. She froze in place, not able to move, and hardly able to breath.

_Go back._

Ronnie whipped around to see where it could have come from, but didn't see anyone, and that wasn't Nick's voice.

_Go back. She needs you._

Ronnie started shaking in place, unable to move. "W-w-who are you," she barely whispered. A person slowly materialized in front of her. She recognized her as the woman from Sara's wedding who handed her the letter.

"Go back," she said. "Look behind the clothes. If you don't hurry, he's going to kill her." When Ronnie didn't move, she shouted, "GO!"

The raise in the woman's voice snapped Ronnie out of her haze and she did as the woman said.

"Ronnie, are you ok," Nick said as hurried into the guest room. "I thought I heard you yell…" He watched as she moved clothes aside to reveal a small opening. "That probably leads to some kind of storage space. Most of the houses around here have that floor plan."

Ronnie was hardly listening. As soon as she moved the door she removed her gun and slowly stepped in. Nick saw her pull out his gun and was about to question her when he heard a male voice. He locked eyes with Ronnie, removed his gun as well, and followed her in.

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A/N: Sorry to cut off there, but it would have taken me much longer to finish this chapter and that just felt like a good place to end it for now. Don't worry, I don't do Character Deaths. Those just make me angry. Unless it's Ecklie. That's my big exception.

A/N 2: No, Jessie's body is not out rotting in the desert, but just because she's in the hospital doesn't mean she's alive. If there's no brain activity, then she may be long gone. Still haven't decided if I'm going to have her wake up, and I really like your opinion, because I can still see this going both ways.


	10. Looking on the Bright Side of Death

A/N: I discovered two things in the past 12 hours. One is that my muse is an evil creature that strikes just as I'm about to fall asleep, causing me to stay up and write until 2 in the morning the night before I need to be up at 6 am. Second, I do not write coherently at 2 in the morning. I wrote a lot more than the two chapters I'm posting, but it's going to take me a while to get through them so they can actually make sense.

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Ronnie and Nick slowly made their way into the storage room. Ahead of them there was a thin path in between the homeowner's boxes. They quietly followed the path until it opened up into a larger area, where they saw a blond woman with a tall dark haired man behind her with a knife on her throat.

"Just in time for the party," said the man with the knife.

"Sir, put the knife down," Nick said as he and Ronnie slowly moved closer. "I know you don't want to hurt anybody…"

"That's where you're wrong cowboy. This bitch wants me gone and she owes me a fight," he said, pressing the knife harder against her throat. When she screamed, he said, "Sept there doesn't seem to be much fight left in her."

"Then fight me," said a voice behind him. He turned to see Jessie standing six inches away from him.

"Get back," he shouted, throwing the blond to the floor and stabbing Jessie.

When the first swing failed to draw blood, he tried again. Throughout all his mad attempts, Jessie had a sad smile on her face. "Someone beat you to it friend," she said. "But I think you may want to turn around."

The man with the knife whipped around and saw Nick and Ronnie right behind him, and since he threw down his human shield, he had nothing to use for cover.

"I'm gonna ask you one last time, sir," Nick said, "put the knife down, turn around, and put your hands on the wall." Once the man had done as he was told, Nick shouted, "Brass! You should come see this! And be sure to bring a uniform with you!"

A few minutes later the homeowner and her ex had both been led out of the room.

"Coming," Brass asked.

"You go on ahead. Ronnie and I just need to go over this place one more time, just to be sure."

"Whatever. We'll let Geek Squad do its thing."

"Thanks man," Nick called out. When he was sure Brass had left, Nick said, "What are you doing here, Jessie?"

"You remembered my name, I'm touched," she said. She hadn't moved since she had distracted the ex-boyfriend, Brass and the officer had been completely oblivious to her presence. "Although, I'm sure it helps that you don't run into many people like me."

"Not many," Nick said.

Jessie gave Nick a small smile and turned to Ronnie just to see her extremely pale. "Are you ok," Jessie asked, taking one step in her direction.

Ronnie quickly put up a hand to stop her and started taking steps back. "Leave me alone. What do you want from me?"

Jessie quickly stopped, raised both arms, and said, "It's ok. Sara wasn't lying when she said you don't have anything to fear from me. I don't want to hurt you."

"Who are you, really?"

"I'm Sara's half sister. I was serving on a ship stationed in the Persian Gulf. While on shore leave, Iraqi insurgents took me and my fiancé captive. They executed me and left me to die in a heat box."

"And did you?"

"I don't know," Jessie sighed. "Apparently I'm in a coma at Bethesda Naval Hospital. Whether I've passed on or not is still anyone's guess."

"What do you want from me," Ronnie whispered. "What are you doing here?"

"I wanted you to stop him from killing that girl. I was here doing whatever I could to prevent it. Look," she said sighing again, "I don't understand this whole thing anymore than you do. But if you could, wouldn't you do whatever you could to help people? To stop a girl from getting raped and killed by her psychotic ex-boyfriend? From your sister getting gunned down by some grieving, trigger happy nut job?" As Ronnie seemed to contemplate Jessie's words, she said, "I'm sorry I frightened you. I hope you have a goodnight. Mr. Stokes," Jessie said, nodding his direction and then heading towards the room's exit. After she had left the room, both Nick and Ronnie felt a chill go down their spines.

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Two weeks later

"The nerve of that woman," Ecklie muttered as he made his way out of CSI. He had just had a rather loud and tiring debate with Sara Sidle, or was it Grissom? Whatever, the debate was long and it pissed the hell out of him. As he pushed open the doors to leave the building he was hit with a cold wind that made him shiver.

"Have to be more specific than that," said someone appearing next to him. "Women the nerve to do a lot of different things. It's what we do best," she said with a slight smile. Ecklie had no idea where she came from. She was dressed in a khaki uniform, and in some way reminded him of the source of his aggravation. It was probably the hair and eyes, and the half smile she was giving him. It was a lot like Sara's, but the woman was obviously not her.

Once he found his voice again, he said, "Excuse me?"

"You said some woman had a lot of nerve, and I said you needed to be more specific in an attempt to hear the rest of the story."

"You think I'd be telling my problems to a complete stranger in the middle of a parking lot who happened to overhear some obscure comment I made about a person I've doubt you've ever met?"

"Yes," she said without hesitating.

Thrown, he asked, "You don't think that's a little odd?"

She laughed and said, "You clearly know nothing of the past three months of my life if you think that's odd." When he didn't say anything, she said, "Come on. Who'd it hurt? How about this then, I'll take a guess at what it could be, and if I'm right you'll let me know?"

"Fine," Ecklie replied, just trying to get her to go away.

"Sara Sidle-Grissom asked for two weeks off so she can go to Maryland with her half sister's grandfather so she can go see her half sister who's been in a coma ever since she was captured by terrorists and left to die in a heat box three months ago. Also, according to Sara, it's her half sister who's been the "ghost" involved in the Thayer murder and most recently with CSIs Stokes and Lake. How'm I doing so far?"

Ecklie's jaw had dropped by the time she'd finished. "How do you know all this?"

She just smiled at him and said, "If I were you, I'd approve that time off, or you'll find out just how real I am, and that I don't like people threatening my family." As soon as she said the last word, she disappeared in front of him. He started to back away, just to trip over a rock that hadn't been there a moment before.

He stood up and sprinted back into the building. He found Sara in the break room with Nick and Warrick going over a case file from their recent murder.

"Sidle," he said, catching all their attentions, "I change my mind, you just need to finish up the week and then you can have the two weeks off, ok?"

"O…kay," she said, confused at his change of heart.

"Just tell your creepy ghost of a sister to leave me alone, ok," he muttered as he headed out of the building, again.

"I'm guessing you had a hand in this," Sara asked.

"Why would you ever ask that," Jessie said, appearing next to Sara.

"Because I saw you laughing through the glass."

"You saw me," Jessie asked. "Odd, most don't notice me until they don't have a choice."

"Ever since the gunman, I've kind of kept an eye out."

"Ah," Jessie said, looking down the way Ecklie had just gone. "You know, I normally don't like scaring people, but he's my exception. The man is a spineless little ass kisser that you can't help but want to go after him…"

"So are you going to intervene every time he tells me no?"

"No, and I think he's right, it's really not fair that you get the two weeks off, all things considered, but I really don't want Grandpa James going alone. Especially with the decision you guys have to make. He's going to need someone there. Someone he can see."

"You mean he can't see you," Warrick asked.

"Nope, for the same reason Phil couldn't," Jessie explained. "The mind is an amazing thing. It does whatever it can to protect the body from any type of pain, that it can even cause you not to see something that's right in front of you. Not until it's proved to you and you've accepted can you see it. For instance, a wife loves her husband more than life, but he's going around her back to screw another woman. The evidence could be right in front of her, but she's still not going to see it. Her best friend could tell her she's seen them together, but she'll still believe her husband's lies. It's not until she catches him doing the dirty with his secretary that she's finally going to stop believing him and start seeing what's been in front of him the whole time. Same idea with me. If you see me, knowing everything you know about me, what's your first assumption?"

"You're dead," Warrick answered.

"Exactly, and that would be too much for some people. Now you can suspect I'm there, just like you can suspect your husband's cheating on you without believing he's really doing it. Grandpa James' lost so much, he can't accept that I'm gone. Because of that, his mind is protecting him by not letting him see me so he never makes that connection."

"And we can see you because we've never met you," Nick finished, "so there's no reason for our minds to feel the need to protect us."

"Exactly," Jessie said smiling. "Don't ever let it be said they just keep you around for your looks."

"I'll keep that in mind," he said.

"Anyway, I need to get going. Place to go, people to freak out. You know the drill."

"I thought you said you didn't like scaring people," Sara asked.

"I said 'normally'. And that was in reference to people I talk to. It's a blast messing with random people on the strip. If you're ever in my position, you've gotta try it."

"Talk about looking on the bright side of things," Warrick said raising his eyebrows. He said as Jessie made her way to the door.

"Well, you know how the song goes: 'Always look on the bright side of death… Life's a piece of shit, when you look at it… Just remember that the last laugh is on you.'"

"Only you would quote Monty Python…" Sara said shaking her head.

"I think that song fits in this situation. Besides, Monty Python kept me sane growing up."

"You must have had one messed up childhood," Nick said.

"Well, it allowed me bonding time with my sister." When Sara gave her one of her half smiles, she continued, "It was also one of the rare occasions when she didn't throw anything at me, although that may be because I just shut up and watched the show instead of do anything to deserve to have anything thrown at me…"

While they were laughing, they all felt a tingle go down their spines and looked up to see Jessie had left.

"Is it weird that we don't think it's weird that someone in a coma over 1000 miles away is hanging out here and talking to us," Nick asked.

"I think we've got enough things to figuring out to try and waste our time on something we'll never understand," Sara said. "Now Warrick, about that finger print you found…"

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A/N 2: I took several lines from "Always Look on the Bright Side of Life" from "Monty Python's Life of Brian". Great movie, although I personally prefer the "Holy Grail". Anyway, I highly recomend any Monty Python movie and the Flying Circus if you ever get the chance.


	11. Goodbye and Good Luck

A knock on his office door caught his attention. Grissom looked up from the paperwork he was doing to see Sophia standing in the doorway.

"What can I do for you?"

"I got a hit on the suspect. Neighbors said they saw him scoping out the building a week before the murder took place." She looked around the room and said, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt. I can come back later."

"Interrupt what," Grissom asked.

"It's ok," said a voice from one of the chairs from the other side of his desk, "I'm used to being ignored."

"I'll come back," Sophia said, giving Grissom an amused look as she left the room.

Grissom looked over at his new visitor and studied her.

"So do I measure up to what you imagined I'd be like," she asked.

"I pictured your eyes more like Sara's," Grissom said. When she raised one of her eyebrows, he said, "When you do that you look almost exactly like Sara. Although, everyone else said they felt a shiver run down their spine before they saw you. I didn't feel that."

"As to my similarities with Sara, well, we do share several genes," she said, smiling. "As for my appearance, did you feel the air conditioning kick on?"

"Yes."

"Well that was me."

"Do you always come when the air's on?"

"No. Actually the air hasn't been on in this building for several hours, if anything the heat has. However, you mind doesn't understand that, so when you felt me come in, your brain told you it was the air conditioning." Grissom merely raised an eyebrow and cocked his head. "Well, no point in wasting time. I came here for two reasons. The first was to meet you the second was to say goodbye."

"Goodbye?"

"You know Sara and my grandfather made the decision to turn off the life support. I don't begrudge them or anything. I don't know what I'd do in their situation, so I can't judge them. But even so, I don't know what's going to happen when all is said and done, so I wanted to say goodbye and ask you a favor."

"What's that," he asked.

"Watch out for Sara," she asked. "I know life's unpredictable and there are way too many variables to take into account, but if you could watch her, since I won't be around…"

"I'll do what I can," Grissom said. "She's going to miss you. Over the past few weeks, it's like you've physically been there to help her through one of the toughest periods for her, and then you saved her life."

"She saved mine," Jessie said. "Did she find Jack?"

"Yeah, she found Jack. He's a prosecutor out of San Francisco, just like the information you left said. They're planning on meeting up next month."

"Good, good. Anyway," she said standing and extending her hand, "it was a pleasure meeting you. And if I don't see you anytime soon…" she stopped to think over her next words before finally saying, "I'll see you when I see you."

Grissom stood, shook her hand and said, "Good luck, whatever happens."

"Thank you," she said, dropping his hand. She made her way towards the exit of the door, and as soon as she was out of sight, Grissom felt a shiver down his spine. He had a sad smile on his face as he looked towards the door, and then sat back down. He checked the clock before starting on his paperwork again, noticing Sara's plane would be landing soon.

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Sara was reading a magazine when suddenly something felt off. She looked up to see no one else sitting around her. Not Mr. Curtis, not the fat guy next to her that had drank half the liquor on the drink cart, not the annoying little kid who felt the pressing need to put his seat all the way back and hit her in the knees… They were all gone.

"You know what I hate the most about flying," Jessie asked, appearing in the seat next to her. "When you have to go to the bathroom. It's so cramped, it smells funny, and you don't know who's joined the mile high club in that thing. And to top it all off, the jet's engine is right there, so your eardrums feel like they're going to explode."

"Jessie? What's going on?"

"You're having a dream. Didn't you figure that out? I may be able to show visions from time to time and show up in a dream or two, but making drunk fat guys and annoying little kids disappear is out of my league."

Sara gave a her a half smile as she asked, "What are you doing here?"

"I came here to say goodbye, and to tell you that I don't begrudge you for the decision you had to make." When she saw the look of horror on Sara's face, she said, "Don't look at me like that, you're giving me second thoughts about showing up."

"What do you mean goodbye," Sara whispered.

"I don't know what's going to happen to me when that plug's pulled, so just in case I don't see you again before… well, you know, I just wanted to talk to you one last time. Make sure nothing's left unsaid."

"I don't know if I could go through with this if it's going to kill you…"

"Sara," Jessie said, grabbing her arm, "either I'm in there or I'm not. If I can't even breath on my own, what makes you think I'm going to wake up one day?"

"I just don't know if I made the right decision."

"I watched as you asked advice from Doc Robbins, David, everyone at CSI, the LVPD… Hell, you even got advice from a random E.R. doctor you met in line at the grocery store. I watched as you and my grandpa talked it. I don't know if there is a right decision, but I know you've explored every available path you could."

Sara watched her sister before asking, "How can you be ok with this? You could be dead by the end of the day?"

"How do we know I'm not already dead?"

"You know what I mean," Sara said, shouting.

Jessie looked Sara over with a sad look before saying, "Yea, I do. And the reason's simple, why I'm ok with this." When Sara met her eyes, she continued, "Because I have no regrets. Sure, my life starting out could have been better. But I had a sister, who had every reason to hate me, instead take me in and watch over me, even if that meant standing in front of a crazy woman with a knife who'd just killed her husband. I had the honor of serving my country. I fell in love with, and was loved back by, an amazing guy. Seeing him dead isn't a pleasant memory, but all my other memories of him are. I found my brother, and although I'll never get to see him again, you will. Even after I should have died, I received the opportunity to help counsel all the runaways that hit the Drunken Sailor, runaways who would have probably ended up dead or as hookers in Las Vegas. Then I got to see you again, return the favor of saving your life, watch you get married, and help stop a girl from getting her throat slit by her ex-boyfriend. What have I got to complain about?"

"Well, when you put it that way," Sara said, her voice trailing. Without realizing they had been building up, a tear slid down Sara's cheek.

Jessie wiped the tear away and said, "It's going to be ok, I promise. You're not alone, either. You've got Grissom, the team, my grandfather… You're going to get through this, no matter what happens. Ok?"

Sara just nodded, she couldn't talk because of the lump in her throat.

"You're doing better already," Jessie said with a smile. At Sara's questioning look, Jessie said, "Less than a month ago you would have run away, claiming to try to find yourself. Instead, you are going to face part of the past that haunts you, and that has an outcome that may be the last thing you want to happen. That takes courage."

"I'm still afraid," she choked out. "Sometimes I don't know how I get out of bed in the morning. If it wasn't for Grissom…"

"The fact that you can even trust him enough to help you through this proves what I've just said. Besides, courage isn't that absence of fear, just the realization that some things are more important." Jessie paused to stare at Sara for a few moments, before smiling and saying, "Take care of my grandfather. Once I'm gone, you're all he's got."

As the vision started to fade, Sara started pleading, "No, wait! Don't go! Please, just wait!"

She felt something shaking her shoulder and someone saying, "Sara, you ok?"

Sara quickly sat up just to have her knees slam on the seat in front of her. She turned to Mr. Curtis, who was giving her a concerned look. "I'm fine. Just a dream."

"Must have a bad one," he said. "You were talking in your sleep and it didn't sound all that pleasant."

"I'm fine," Sara said smiling at the old man.

"Alright, well, the plane's landed and pulled up to the terminal. They should be lettin us off anytime now…"

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A/N: Jessie's fate is going to come out in the following chapters. I've pretty much got this all set, but if you have any last minute ideas, I'd still like to hear them. Don't know if I'll use them, but I'll consider them.


	12. To Fight or Give Up

Jessie hated hospitals before her deployment to the Persian Gulf, and as she followed Sara and her grandfather through Bethesda, she discovered that she still hated them. Before it had been because she'd rushed too many people to them just to watch them die; now, she felt like she was trespassing, like she wasn't supposed to be here.

Sara and her grandfather suddenly stopped, and Jessie looked to see what had caught their attention. In a room ahead of them was a young woman with tubes and wires attached all over her body. She seemed familiar, but Jessie couldn't place her.

A doctor had entered the room and said, "Her condition is stable, but unlikely to change."

Jessie moved to read the doctor's chart, and if it had been possible, she would have fainted. "This is me?" She took another look at her body, in complete shock.

"I know this was a hard decision for you Mr. Curtis," the doctor said as Sara and her grandfather entered the room.

"Just get me the paperwork," he replied. As soon as the doctor left the room, Sara put her arm around his shoulders. "I don't know what I'll do without her. I know she hasn't been here these three months, but the idea that she'd wake up kept me going. With her gone for good…" his voice trailed off. "She's all I've got left. When she's gone, I'll have nothing left."

"You've got me," Sara said, meeting his eyes, allowing him to see the tears streaming down her face.

He smiled at Sara and said, "You better cut that out girl, or you're gonna get me started."

"I'll try," she said returning the smile.

The doctor came back in with several documents. "I just want to go over this with you both so you know exactly what you are signing," he said. "I don't want you to feel coerced or tricked into signing something you don't want to. PO Dixon's life is not something we take lightly."

"Alright, let's get on with this," he said.

"What this document does is give us the authority to take PO Dixon off of life support but not touch her feeding tube in the event that she starts breathing on her own. What this other document does," he said showing them another document, "is in the case she doesn't start breathing on her own, gives your permission to donate her organs."

"Sara, why don't you look this over," Mr. Curtis said handing the documents to her. "No offense."

"No, please, take all the time you need to go over them. This is not a decision to rush into. If you want, I can even have someone from the Judge Advocates General come over and look these both over and explain it to you as well."

"No, that won't be necessary," Sara said as she started to read. After a few minutes, she said, "They say what the doctor said they did."

Mr. Curtis sighed, pulled out a pen, and signed both documents. "Let's just get on with this. I'm sick of waiting for her to die or wake up. I just can't wait anymore."

"Yes sir," the doctor said, taking the forms. "I'll go take care of these and we'll do what needs to be done."

In accordance with Mr. Curtis' request, the doctor quickly returned with nurses to shut down the life support machines. Once they were off, they all waited the eternal seconds to see if Jessie's body would give up or start breathing on her own.

A nurse examined Jessie, and started speaking. The blood was pumping so loudly in Sara's ears she was sure that she couldn't have heard the nurse correctly. "What did you say," Sara whispered.

"She's breathing on her own," the nurse repeated, smiling.

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A week later, Sara walked into Jessie's room to see Mr. Curtis falling asleep on a chair next to her bed. She walked over, gently shook his shoulder, and said, "It's your turn to take a break."

"No, I'm fine," he said gruffly.

"Maybe, but I'm selfish and want some alone time with my sister."

He gave her an annoyed smile and said, "Fine, but after my nap back in the hotel room, it's my turn again."

"We'll argue that point when we get there," Sara said as she took Mr. Curtis' vacated seat. Once he left the room, Sara took Jessie's hand and said, "Hey there. Your grandpa is gone, not that he wanted to or anything, but I think he needed a break. Right now it's just the two of us…" Her voice trailed off as something caught her attention. "Mr. Curtis," Sara yelled as she pushed the nurse's call button over Jessie's bed.

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"Don't panic, don't panic, don't panic, don't panic," she said to herself, over and over like mantra. Her prison was dark, and small. She never been claustrophobic, but that was before she had been shoved into a metal box and left to the mercy of the desert's heat, which, by the way, wasn't all that merciful. "Deep breaths, come on, slow down, deep breaths," Jessie started saying, trying to make her body do as it was told.

Suddenly her world changed from her metal prison to a giant, well, space. "Where the hell am I," she asked out loud.

"Your mind," said a voice next to her. "You've been trapped her for a while now."

Jessie looked over to see Mark sitting next to her looking just like he did the last time she saw him, except with his head attached. "You're saying my mind is a giant void. Figures."

"It's just tired from trying to repair itself from your time in that box. Normally it's quite a chaotic place."

"Have I even left the box?"

"You mean you don't remember the past three months?"

"No," she said. "What's happened?"

"You were rescued and right now you're in a coma at Bethesda Naval Hospital. You don't remember anything?"

"No. Am I dead?"

"That one's up to you," Mark answered. "So far you've fought hard and refuse to die. Only you can decide whether you're going to keep fighting or give up."

"I don't know if I can," Jessie said. "You, Terry, Mike… You guys are the only family I've had for 15 years. I don't know if I can go on without you."

Mark cupped Jessie's cheek and said, "It's ok to be scared, but you're not alone. You've got your Grandpa James, Phil, your sister Sara, your brother Jack, and at least four Vegas CSIs all there for you."

"Vegas CSIs?"

"That's a long story that I'll let someone else tell you," he said, smiling. His face turned serious again as he said, "In all the years I've known you, I've never seen you stop fighting just because you were scared. I know this is something bigger than you've ever faced, but I know you have the strength to get through this."

"At least one of us does…"

"Like I said, I can't make this decision for you, and I know you'll make the best choice you can, but can I ask you a favor?"

"What's that?"

"If you do continue to fight, and you do wake up from this coma, don't hold yourself back." When he saw the confusion in her eyes, he said, "Don't act like you really did die in that box. Go out and 'live like you were dying', to quote my favorite Tim McGraw song."

"That is a good song," Jessie agreed.

"Don't let my memory hold you back, move on, start a family, just… be happy and don't feel guilty about it."

"You're talking as if I'm going to keep fighting," Jessie said.

"I can read you Dixon, have been since we met," Mark said smiling. "We both know you couldn't give up, even if you wanted to."

Jessie smiled sadly and said, "I'm going to miss you."

"I'm going to miss you too, but I'll be waiting for when it finally is time for you," he said pulling her into his arms.

Her surroundings changed back into the metal box, but this time, something felt different. She could hear voices on the outside of the box. Suddenly the lid was lifted and she saw a light so bright she had to close her eyes. Someone slipped their hand in hers and she gripped it, causing the voices to get louder.

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A/N: Yes, she's alive. Deep down, I don't know if I could have killed her off. Character deaths, even if they're mine, just aren't my thing. Anyway, with Jessie's fight almost over, do you think my story should be to? I'm not done with Jessie or any of the CSIs, I'm having WAY too much fun playing with them all. But should I make it a sequel or just keep on with this story? I'm open to all suggestions!


	13. Let's not dance around the elephant

A/N: Now come the exciting days of Jessie's recovery. This has actually been more fun to write than I thought it would be. A couple things, though:

First: The only things I know about the effects of a coma on a person are what I've seen from TV and movies. I know this isn't a reliable source, and I apologize if completely misrepresent the whole process or downplay the effects that should have happened to Jessie. Again, I don't know a lot about this particular subject and I'm sorry.

Second: I'm bringing Mike Keppler back. I was watching CSI season 7 for insperation the other night and remembered how much I liked him and how angry I was when they killed him off, so I'm assuming that he did get shot, but they were able to ressusitate him. Not sure how his relationship with Catherine will play out, I'll just let the story take over and see how that goes.

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Sara walked into a local Henderson restaurant to meet Mr. Curtis for their weekly dinner. He'd beaten her there and already had a table.

"Where's you husband," he asked.

"Couldn't make it," Sara answered as she took a seat. "Had to go in early and help someone from dayshift with one of their cases."

"That's too bad," he said. "I got a reply from the Navy."

"And…?"

"They're going to transfer Jessie next week."

"Really," Sara said, surprised. "I made at least six phone calls and wrote about five letters, and every time they told me they couldn't move her. Why'd they do it for you?"

"I wrote a letter saying how Jessie was all I had left after my wife had died and my only child had been sent to prison on drug charges. I also mentioned how it was really expensive for me to fly to Maryland to visit my only granddaughter since I was living on social security and on a fixed income. And then I signed it Capt. James Curtis, USMC (Ret.). Those words mean a lot more to those bureaucrats in the Dept. of Defense than saying you're a CSI from Vegas who wants her sister closer."

"What words would you be talking about? The ones that say she's the only kid of your only daughter or the fact that you're a retired Marine?"

"All of them," he said smiling.

"I'm guessing you forgot to mention daughter has been release from prison."

"You know, that slipped my mind. Maybe I should write another letter to them correcting my mistake…"

"Yeah, I'll bet you'll get right on that," Sara said as she opened her menu and decided what she was going to have to eat.

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Two months later, Sara walked through the halls of the Las Vegas Veteran's Hospital to visit Jessie before her shift. She had just talked with one of Jessie's doctors and wasn't sure what to make of what he had said.

As she got closer to the physical therapy room, she could clearly hear a voice yell, "You want me to do what? How about instead we play a game. It's called 'Kiss Jessie's Ass.'"

Sara walked into the room to see Jessie holding herself up, with most of her weight balanced to her right side, on two railings that were about three feet apart with her wheelchair behind her. In front of her stood a tall African-American named Lt. Michaels. "Normally I would love to play," he said, "but I'd get in trouble for fraternizing with one of my patients, then I'd be out of a job and have a lot to try to explain to my wife."

"Oh come on, you know I'm worth it," she said as she started to try and make her way down the rails. Her right side moved fine, but when she tried to move her left leg she had problems. "Come on," Jessie muttered through gritted teeth. After a few minutes, she was finally able to move her leg half a foot.

"Great job, now let's see you move your arms forward," Lt. Michaels said. She was able to easily move her right arm, but it took considerable effort before she could move her left arm. "Alright, now your legs again," the physical therapist said. Once again, her right leg moved easily, but she had trouble again with her left leg.

Before making another attempt to move her leg, Jessie looked around and saw Sara standing in the doorway. "When you'd get here?"

"When you suggested your new game to Lt. Michaels," Sara replied with a smirk.

"It's a fun game," Jessie said, turning back to the rails. "I know lots of people who need to play it."

"I'm sure you do," Sara said as she moved further into the room.

"Hey, how about a break," Jessie asked Lt. Michaels.

"You know how this works," Lt. Michaels answered. "You get halfway down, you can have a break." When Jessie glared at him, he laughed and said, "Don't look at me like that. I wouldn't ask you to do it if I didn't know you could."

"I thought you were my soul mate John," Jessie said as she started moving again. "I don't like you anymore. You and I are finished."

"My wife will be relieved to hear that, now come on."

"This is gonna bite you in the ass you know," Jessie said, wincing as she made her way down the rails.

"Why's that?"

"Because as soon as I catch you I'm gonna kill you."

"Just give me a head start," he said with a smile. "And you're done. You can take a break and visit with Sara, and then we'll start again. Ma'am, if you wouldn't mind," he asked Sara, pointing to Jessie's wheelchair.

"Sure," she said, quickly moving the chair so Jessie could sit.

"Let's go outside," Jessie said once she was settled. "I getting sick of just staring at the inside of this hospital."

Sara pushed Jessie outside to one of the shaded benches near the physical therapy entrance.

"Nick stopped by the other day," Jessie said, her words slurring, after Sara had sat down. "Dropped off the care package you made for me."

"Yeah, I didn't have time to stop and he volunteered."

"I really appreciate it," Jessie said smiling. "There's never anything good on when I do have the chance to watch TV, so I was really excited to see the books. How'd you know I liked James Patterson?"

"I remember you mentioned him before."

"I talked about James Patterson," Jessie asked. "I don't remember that conversation."

"We had it before I found out you were in a coma…"

"Ah, so it was during my time as a ghost. I still don't remember any of that," she said with a sigh. "When Nick stopped by he told me a few stories of when our paths crossed during that time."

"So he visited for awhile," Sara asked.

"At least an hour, probably closer to two," Jessie answered. "Told him he didn't have to stay, but he said it wasn't a problem, that he'd been in the hospital once before himself and knew how lonely it could get. Then he told me about how he was buried alive and we both tried to one up each other on who had the worst experience."

"Who was the winner?"

"He almost won with the ants crawling all over his body and the pressurized explosives, but I was able to pull ahead with the dead fiancé and best friends."

"Congratulations," Sara said sarcastically. "Tell me your other conversations weren't that morbid."

"No," she said with a half smile. "We talked about the Drunken Sailor, Phil, Monty Python, military life, what it's like to be a CSI, Monty Python, Dr. Grissom's lecture I attended, favorite authors, Monty Python, favorite country music performers, Monty Python…"

"I'm noticing a trend."

"What can I say," Jessie said, "he likes Monty Python as much as I do."

"I never would have guessed," Sara said.

"Yeah, me neither. Had to work it out of him, but I finally got him to admit it. Anyway," Jessie sighed, "no sense in dancing around the elephant. What'd my doctor say?"

"He says you're the strangest patient he's ever seen."

"And why's that?"

"Because he's never seen a case like yours before. When you talk, your words slur, but when you get angry and start yelling, you speak clearly. It's clear during physical therapy that you have trouble moving both your left leg and arm, but Dr. Jones believes it's only your left arm that should be giving you trouble, that your leg is fine."

"And his explanation for slurring my words and my leg issues is…?"

"All the scans and tests he's taken has lead him to believe that it's not physical, but psychological."

"Not the fact that I was in a coma for three months?"

"He says your leg and speech have gotten significantly worse ever since you received a letter from the Navy a couple of days ago, which reinforces his belief." Jessie looked away and started rubbing her face with her right hand. "Wanna tell me about it?"

"No," she said, still not meeting Sara's eyes. "I need to get back. The sooner I walk those rails, the sooner I can get back to the book you gave me."

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Sara walked into CSI more frustrated than she'd been in awhile. She first went to Grissom's office, but when she saw he wasn't there, she headed to the break room to get a cup of coffee.

"Hey Sara," Nick said when he saw her enter.

"Hey," she replied as she reached for a cup.

"Somethin wrong," Nick asked, noticing her tense features.

"Just issues with Jessie," Sara answered as she poured. "Her doctor believes most of her problems are psychological but she won't talk to me about it. Problem is, she's getting worse and her doctor doesn't know what to do."

"Is she seeing a psychiatrist?"

"Yes, but she won't talk to him either. That's why I was hoping she'd talk to me."

"Do you want me to give it a shot? She seemed to open up to me," Nick suggested.

"If you don't mind," Sara answered. "I don't want you to feel put on the spot or anything."

"No, it's no problem. I've got tomorrow off anyway; I'll go see her then."

"Thanks. I just want to see her get better. It's killing me to see her like this…"

Suddenly Warrick entered the room with an angry look on his face.

"What's wrong, man," Nick asked.

"You heard how Keppler's trial was coming to a close?"

"You mean the one he testified in back in Trenton in order to avoid prosecution?"

"Yeah, that one," Warrick said. "Catherine just pulled some strings and now he's coming back to work here again."

"He was a good CSI, except for that whole 'reverse forensics' thing he pulled," Nick said.

"That wasn't his shinning moment, but the Undersheriff and Catherine also shoulder some responsibility for that," Sara said. "I wouldn't have a problem working with him again, as long as he doesn't hide anything else from us."

"That's not the point," Warrick said. "_Catherine_ pulled strings for that to happen. What am I supposed to think about that? You know the two of them got close while he was here. They even went on a couple of dates."

"Maybe you should talk to her about it."

"I plan to, once I find her."

"You've got your chance," Sara said, pointing to the door behind him. Warrick swung around to see Catherine standing in the doorway.

"I think we need to talk in private," she said, her eyes never leaving Warrick's.

"Never a dull moment around here," Nick said as Warrick and Catherine left the room. "Come on, let's go find your husband and get our assignments before we get caught up in anymore drama."

"Good idea," Sara said as she followed Nick out of the break room.


	14. They're awarding my greatest mistake

Jessie was halfway through the book Sara had given her when she heard a knock on the door. She looked up to see Nick Stokes standing at the entrance.

"This is a surprise," Jessie said grabbing her bookmark and closing the book. "Come on in."

"How ya feelin," Nick asked as he took the seat by her bed. Sara had been right about the slur in her voice, it had gotten heavier since the last time they'd talked. Although whether it was from stress or because she'd been in a coma for three months, it really wasn't his place to speculate.

"Eh, same shit, different day. Done with physical therapy for the day, so I'm just resting and waiting for dinner."

"Still no roommate?"

"No, although word is I'll be getting one soon. But for now, I still got the room to myself."

"I picked something up for you," Nick said, grabbing the bag he'd brought. As he watched her pull the book out of the bag he said, "I remember you said you liked James Rollins and that's his latest. I know Sara got you a bunch, but I also know how quickly you can get through books when you've got nothing else to do."

"The Judas Strain! I've been waiting to read this one," Jessie said as she looked over the book. "I meant to grab it before I left for the Persian Gulf, but I didn't have the chance. Thank you."

"No problem," he said, bringing his hands together awkwardly.

After a minute, Jessie asked, "Sara sent you, didn't she?"

"She was letting out some of her frustration and I volunteered to come."

Jessie brought her right hand up and started rubbing her temples in an attempt to fight the tension headache that was building. "I really wish she hadn't…"

"She's just worried about you," Nick said. "I've known her for years and I've never seen her like this." When Jessie didn't say anything, Nick asked, "Can you tell me what was in that letter?"

"Why should I?"

"Because we've been through a similar ordeal," he said earnestly, leaning forward. "I know how hard it is to recover from this…"

"You wouldn't be able to begin to understand what I've been through," Jessie interrupted.

"Let me help you," Nick pleaded. "If you don't, this is just going to eat at you until there's nothing left."

After a tense minute, she reached over to a drawer on the other side of her bed, pulled it out a letter, and threw it at him.

Nick quickly read it and said, "They want to decorate you with the Navy Cross. That's what you're so upset about?" When she didn't answer, Nick looked up and asked, "Jessie?"

"They're awarding me for one of the biggest mistakes I ever made. If it wasn't for the fact that a bunch of terrorists died I probably would have been dishonorably discharged and crucified by the media."

"This isn't for being captured and put in that box?"

"No," Jessie said. "I got the Purple Heart for that."

"Then what happened?"

Jessie was quiet for a moment before she looked away and said, "I had been in the Gulf for about a week when one of the senior officers came up to me with a special assignment. The commanders on the ground needed a security detail for some Iraqi official to tour some obscure village in a PR campaign. But because of some planned offensive, they were stretched thin and requested assistance from the _Regan_. Since I was one of the few NCOs who wasn't working on anything major and had experience with leading security details, I was asked to lead a team of six other SPs. Everything was going fine until we got to the center of the village. An explosion to my left caused the car we were in to flip, knocking us all out of it," she said as Nick sat listening. As if it were happening again, Jessie narrated the events as they played in her mind.

_"Come on, let's go," Jessie yelled as she pulled one of the sailors off the ground. She went to pull the official, just to see half his head missing. As she dove for cover with the rest of the men under her charge, it slowly registered that the substance on her uniform was the missing part of the official's head._

_"What are we gonna do," Allen asked Jessie frantically._

_"Calm down," she said. It was all she could do to keep from panicking. She'd never been in a situation like this before, but looking at each of the six men, she could tell she had more experience to handle this than they did. "__Johnson, radio for help," she said, barely moving from cover to see where the shots were coming from. She saw that they all seemed to come from the building in the center of the village._

_"They said support was on their way, but their quickest ETA was fifteen minutes," Johnson said, clearly on the verge of panic._

_"Alright," Jessie said, trying to keep as much fear out of her voice as possible, "__there's no way we're going to just sit here and wait to die. Listen up, __all the shots appear to be coming out of that building. Allen and I are going to go around on the left and see if we can get a better angle on it. Johnson, I want you and Benjamin to do the same, but on the right. The rest of you are going to stay here and provide covering fire. Any questions?"_

_"Are you sure this is a good idea," Johnson asked. "We're not infantry, we haven't been trained to do this."_

_"Sure we have," Jessie said, "except we refer to it as hostage recovery. Same principles, just keep your head down and stay alert."_

_Jessie and Allen left first, followed closely by Johnson and Benjamin. As they made their way to the building, an insurgent jumped out, brandishing an AK-47. However, before he had the chance to do anything, Allen shot and killed him. Jessie grabbed the grenades the insurgent was carrying as she walked passed him __as__ they continued __on their way_

_They finally reached a good vantage point that allowed a clear shot to their attackers. Jessie noticed an open window __on her side of the building, and decided that would be the best place to throw one of the grenades. However, just as she was getting ready to throw it, she realized she would need to stand up and throw for it to get the distance she needed, causing her to be an easy target before the grenade even left her hand.__ She looked across and saw Johnson and Benjamin. She signaled for them to start __shooting, distracting the insurgents long enough for her to throw the grenade and take cover._

_The next thing she knew, she heard the loudest explosion of her life – way t__o__o loud to just have been caused by the grenade._

"It turned out that they had been stockpiling explosives in that building and the grenade I threw landed on the top of the pile. When it exploded, everyone within ten feet of the building was caught in the explosion."

"You did what you had to do," Nick said. "Where's the crime in that?"

"It was a school," Jessie said, fighting to keep emotion out of her voice. "They were in the middle of classes when the attack began. Over 40 kids died in that explosion, not counting the ones who were playing behind the building."

"Oh wow," Nick said, unconsciously rubbing the back of his head with his hand.

"And now they want to reward me for killing those children. I've heard all the arguments," Jessie said, interrupting Nick when he tried to argue. "When the Marines finally showed up, the officer in charge commended me on keeping my men alive, saying that that's exactly what he would have done. That it's the terrorists we should blame for using an American built school as a base and weapons depot. But that doesn't change that as a direct result of my actions, those kids are dead. In an effort to take my mind off of everything, Mike, Terry, and Mark all talked me into going to the market a few days later…"

"Where a suicide bomber struck and you and Mark were captured," Nick finished, finally understanding all the guilt Jessie carried.

"And now they want to give me a medal for it," Jessie said, emotion finally starting to creep in. "And not just any medal, but one of the highest medals you can get. The only one higher than the Navy Cross is the Congressional Medal of Honor. They're awarding me for my greatest mistake," Jessie said, finally looking at Nick.

He saw the tears running down her eyes, and moved to sit on the bed next to her. He pulled her in an embrace and let her cry on his shoulder. After she finally calmed down, Nick said, "They're not awarding you for the death of the terrorists. They're awarding you for the fact that you kept those around you alive when you were all put in a situation none of you had any experience in. You showed courage when you could have all sat there and wait to be rescued, and probably would have died as a result."

"What's it matter? The kids are still dead. I see they're faces every time I close my eyes…"

"It matters to the families of the sailors who are alive today because of your actions," Nick said. Jessie started crying again while Nick held her. After awhile, he noticed she was asleep. He moved slightly to get more comfortable, but he never let go of her.

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A few days later, Sara was walking down the halls to visit with Jessie again. She made her way into the physical therapy room and watched silently as she watched Jessie navigate the rails again.

"I'm seeing some real improvement, Dixon," Lt. Michaels said.

"Well, I do aim to please," Jessie said as she continued.

"Keep this up and you'll be outta here in no time."

"Hear that, Sara," Jessie asked without turning around.

"How'd you know I was standing here? Your back was to me."

"I'm just awesome like that," she said as she made her way to the end of the rails. "I think I've just earned a break."

"Really? And why's that?"

"Because I walked the complete length of these insidious rails without swearing or threatening you. I'd really hate to ruin that accomplishment."

Lt. Michaels smiled and said, "Alright, you can have a short break, but then we're getting right back to work."

"Aye, aye," Jessie said as she lowered herself into her wheelchair.

When they made their way back outside again, Sara said, "You doctor has seen some real improvement and you speech is starting to clear up."

"Yeah well, what can I say?"

"So I heard Nick stopped by," Sara said, trying to figure out how to broach the subject.

"Yeah, after you sent him," Jessie replied. "Although it did turn out all right in the end."

"So I'm guessing you told him what was in the letter," Sara said awkwardly.

"I did," Jessie said, watching Sara closely. An awkward silence enveloped them, before Jessie finally said, "You're insulted."

"No... yes... a little," she sighed. "I'm your sister, and you won't tell me what's wrong, but you told Nick. I understand you're just doing what you have to…"

"But you wanted to be the one I needed to lean on," Jessie guessed. "There's a reason I told Nick instead of you."

"I know there was…"

"I didn't want you to hate me," Jessie said, interrupting Sara.

Sara looked up to see Jessie's eyes watering and a few tears running down her face. "I could never hate you," Sara said as Jessie wiped the tears off her face.

"The letter I received was from the Navy informing they wanted to decorate me with the Navy Cross."

"That's what upset you?"

"No, it's the story behind the award. I was on security detail in Iraq when we were attacked. I threw a grenade into the building the terrorists were hiding in. Because of all the explosives they had stockpiled in there, the building was destroyed, killing everyone in it. What I didn't know was that it was a school with over forty kids in it." Sara just stared at her, not sure what to think. "I already hate myself for it. I don't know what I'd do if you hated me too. I just found you and I didn't want to lose you again," Jessie said, tears spilling over again.

"You're not going to lose me," Sara said, moving to pull Jessie in a hug. "I'm not going anywhere."

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Mike Keppler walked into CSI for the first time in over a year. Memories came flooding back to him when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

"Welcome back," Catherine said as soon as he turned to face her.

He gave her one of his half smiles and said, "Thanks for making it possible."

"Anytime," she said, suddenly looking very nervous. "Look, Mike, a lot's changed around here since you left…"

"If this is about Warrick, I heard," he interrupted. "The forensics community is smaller than you'd think and word travels fast. It's ok. You deserve someone like him; someone better than me."

"That's not it," Catherine said meeting his eyes.

"It is what it is," he said with a shrug. "At the end of the day you deserve to be happy. Anyway, I have a meeting with Ecklie and Grissom. I'll see you around."

"See you around," Catherine said as she watched him walk away.

"Ready to go," Warrick asked, coming up behind her.

"Yeah, let's go," she said smiling up at him.


	15. New Opportunities

A/N: I originally typed this chapter to immediately follow the chapter Jessie woke up in because I really didn't want to write anything having to do with her physical therapy. But then I realized that I really couldn't skip over it. This chapter has been sitting on my computer for a couple of days now and has been slightly rewritten since the story took a turn I wasn't planning on when Jessie first woke up, although something feels a little off to me about this chapter. If you can figure it out, please let me know. Anyway, long story short (too late, I know) I just wanted to post this, if for no other reason than I'm extremely excited right now. I coach basketball, and my girls are undefeated, and one their game tonight with a last second basket, you know, like the ones you only see on TV. It was amazing. No, it has absolutly no relevance at all to this story, but I don't care.

A/N 2: I'm not sure where it originally came from, but I took a line from a review left by El Gringo Loco. It really is a great line and I just wanted to say thank you (and hope you don't mind).

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Six months after arriving in Las Vegas, Jessie walked into the Sphere and headed for the bar. She scanned the crowd until she finally found the person she was looking for.

"Captain Jackson," Jessie said when she was finally close enough for him to hear her.

"Dixon," he said standing and enthusiastically shaking her hand. "Good to see you again. I'm sorry I couldn't visit sooner."

"Don't worry about it, sir," Jessie said taking the seat next to him.

"How are you," he asked. "Honestly, 'cause you know that I'll know if you lie."

Jessie thought about the answer as she looked Capt. Jackson over. He'd been the captain of the _Regan_ while she had been stationed there. After the incident at the village, he personally met with her a few times and encouraged her to take some shore leave just to try and get away from everything. The day she was taken captive he had practically ordered her off the ship. Jessie thought about the guilt he must have carried with him when he discovered what happened in the marketplace. "All things considered, I'm ok. I have issues with my arm and occasionally my word slur. I should be thankful; the doctors can't figure out how I sustained so little damage."

"You're a fighter that's why. Saw that the first time I laid eyes on you."

"Yes sir."

"Stop calling me that," he said, his voice filled with annoyance. "We're not in uniform and it drives me nuts when you do that."

"Sorry," she said. "After 15 years of service, it's hard to break that habit. I'm hoping it'll present a good image in the civilian world."

"Civilian? They pushed you out?"

"No sir, I'm leaving on my own. They offered me a position, but it was a desk job, and if I wanted one of those I'd be in the Air Force. Plus, I'd like to be closer to my family."

"That's too bad." After a minute, he said, "Heard you got the Navy Cross. I recommended you, as well as the Marine Major who extracted you and your men, for the Medal of Honor, but they didn't think that it would present a good image for the President, all things considered."

"You mean the death of over forty kids is a bad PR move? Who would've thought…"

Capt. Jackson gave Jessie a concerned look and asked, "How are you holding up?"

Jessie sighed and said, "I don't know."

"Are you talking to anyone?"

"I'm not wasting my time talking to some quack."

"What about family? I heard you found your sister."

"Sara? Yea I've told her and one of her colleagues what happened, but I haven't talked with them about it."

"You should. It helps to talk."

"Why? You really think I can find absolution from my sins by doing that? That they'll be able to open the Gates of Heaven for me?"

"No, but I think they might find a way to break through the Gates of Hell you have trapped yourself behind," he said, finishing off the drink in front of him. "Just think about it. Anyway, I came here to lose money, and not just by drinking. Let's try to get together one more time before I have to head back to Great Lakes."

"Sure," Jessie said, shaking his hand. "It was good to see you again sir."

"You too," he said, walking away.

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"Captain Brass," Mary, the LVPD secretary, said when she saw him enter the building, "you have someone waiting to see you about a job. A Jessica Dixon."

"Thanks," he said as she made his way to his office. Sitting outside of it he saw the woman he'd heard from countless stories. "So you're the infamous Jessica Dixon?"

"That would be me," she said standing and extending her hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you, sir."

"Why don't we step into my office," he said after they shook hands. Once Jessica had sit down in the seat across from him, he said, "I hope you won't mind if I get straight to the point?"

"No sir, no sense in wasting each others time. You want to know about how competent an officer I'd be considering the coma I was in?"

"Among other things, yes."

"Here is paperwork I've gotten from my physical therapist," she said handing him documents, "that explain my condition. My left arm does have some issues and won't move as smoothly as it used to, but I can still shoot accurately and I've passed the Navy's physical fitness test."

"You passed the Navy's PT test with a bad arm? What about push ups?"

"Just used my right arm sir."

"Really? Impressive."

"Thank you sir," Jessie said. "The real challenge for me is trying to write, considering I'm left handed. I can grip things, but that's about it."

"That's all you got from being three months in a coma," Brass asked as he looked at her medical records.

"Stumped doctors too," she said. "Although I did slur my words for about two months had serious issues with my left leg at first. But six months of physical therapy and speech therapy have really helped me come a long way. Look," she said leaning forward, "I know I'm not the ideal candidate for a job thanks to my coma, but I'm not just a pretty face. I've had 15 years in the Navy as an SP and had training as a profiler. I know how to handle pressure, I understand a chain of command, and I can read people."

"Read people?"

"Yes sir. I can tell what people are thinking just by their body language, which is why I'd be handy in interrogations."

"Fine, what am I thinking?"

"You're skeptical about hiring me, considering I was in a coma and my arm does have problems. However, I do have strong references and, oddly enough, am medically qualified, causing you to look at me in a new light. You're reevaluating me and seriously considering hiring me."

He cocked his head and raised his eyebrow.

"Throughout this interview, your eyes have been squinted and your hand on your chin. That tells me you're thinking deeply on something. Your body is turned toward me and your eyes have dilated since I first came in here. That tells me that for whatever reason you're interested in me. Your leg is resting on your knee and you're leaning back, asserting your dominance in this situation, but your head is tilted, showing vulnerability. That tells me you know you're in charge, but you're surprised I really can read you and are acknowledging that fact without relinquishing any of your control. When you raised your eyebrow a moment ago that signaled surprise and slight doubt. Added together with the rest of the signals your body is giving me, that sign tells me you were surprised at how closely I read you, but were chalking it up to luck or even arrogance. You're nodding along as I talk, an unconscious gesture found in men and women; however, when a woman does it, it says she's listening. When a man does it, it says he's agreeing with you."

Brass silently studied her for a minute when Jessie started talking again, "As much as I don't want to bring it up, if look through the papers I gave you, you'll see one from a psychiatrist I saw for a while who believes I'm suffering from Post Traumatic Stress Syndrome."

"Are you?"

"I don't think so, but I'm not exactly a reliable source, all things considered. I just think you should know everything there is about me before you make a decision, even if it's not a strike in my favor. Especially since you'd find it eventually." When Brass didn't say anything, Jessie said, "If you don't feel comfortable having me out in the field, I don't mind working with the geeks at CSI. But after 15 years in law enforcement, I really don't want to give it up. But I don't want you to feel like you have to hire me just because Sara Sidle is my sister."

Brass looked her over as he thought about it. "Tell ya what," he said after a minute. "You take a physical with our doctors and take our fitness and handgun qualification test as well as meet with one of our psychiatrists. You pass the tests, and I'll give you a job as a detective."

"Deal," she said smiling. "When do you want to do the tests?"

"This afternoon work for you?"

"Perfect," she said rising and shaking his hand.

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Sara was sitting in the break room with the rest of the team when Grissom and Catherine came in with assignments.

"Nick, you and Greg got the arson case, no DB, but the residence belongs to a distant cousin of the undersheriff's."

"You got it boss."

"Warrick, we found another body that we think might be connected with the serial killer you've been chasing," Grissom said. "I want you to take Keppler along with you, see if another set of eyes can make a difference."

"Sure thing," Warrick said.

"Sara and Ronnie," Catherine said handing Sara a slip, "we've got DB in Henderson, not too far where you told me your sister's grandfather lives. Thought you might want that one."

"Thanks Cath," Sara said reaching for her keys.

"Who said you get to drive," Ronnie asked.

"Because you still haven't told me where 6 Mile is," Sara replied.

"I looked it up. There is no 6 Mile."

"Obviously you didn't look hard enough," Sara said, hoping to cover her fib.

"Fine, name a cross street."

"5 Mile," Sara bluffed.

"Actually, 5 Mile is parallel to 6 mile," Jessie said from the doorway. "6 Mile crosses Inkster, Beach Daily, Telegraph… actually, you might know it better as McNickles, that's what 6 Mile turns into when it hits Telegraph."

"Oh," Ronnie said. "I'm gonna go get my kit," she said as she quickly left the room.

"Although I have no idea what she'd be doing memorizing streets from Michigan," Jessie said as she watched Ronnie leave.

"Michigan," Sara asked.

"Yea, 6 Mile, 5 Mile, and all the other streets I named are in Michigan. Around the area I grew up, actually."

"Creepy," Sara said.

"Hey, where's your visitor tag," Greg asked.

"Don't need one," she said smiling and holding up her new ID. "I got the job. Sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt, I just wanted to tell Sara."

"Congratulations," Sara said, going around and hugging Jessie.

"Thanks, I start Monday. I was planning on making a trip to the DS this weekend and wanted to know if anyone wanted to join me."

"The DS," Ronnie said, coming back in with her kit. "What's that?"

"The Drunken Sailor. It's a bar I used to hang out in all the time."

"Gil and I have the weekend off, so we'll come," Sara said.

"I've got nothing better to do this weekend," Nick said. "I wouldn't mind going back."

"Anyone else," Jessie asked.

"The rest of us gotta work," Warrick said. "Rain check?"

"Sure," Jessie said. She turned around to leave when she saw some guy staring at her. "I don't think we've met," Jessie said. "I'm Jessica Dixon."

"What do you want," the man asked.

"I was just talking to my sister," Jessie asked, confused.

"I haven't done anything!"

"I didn't say you had…" Before Jessie had a chance to ask anymore questions, the man turned around and quickly left. "Does anyone want to fill me in," Jessie asked.

"That's Conrad Ecklie," Warrick said. "You had a run in with him while, you know," Warrick's voice trailed since he couldn't think of anyway to describe Jessie's previous condition.

"I was playing ghost?"

"Yea, then."

"I promise I'll tell you the whole story when we meet up on Friday," Sara said.

"I'm looking forward to it," Jessie said as she made her way to the exit.

"Does someone want to fill me in," Keppler asked.

"I'll explain on our way the DB," Warrick said as they left the room.


	16. The Drunken Sailor

A/N: First, I just wanted to say thank you for all the support and kind words I've gotten. They really help encourage me to write faster knowing that people are enjoying it. So Thank you! This chapter took me a little longer to write than I thought, and this chapter is by far the longest yet. I would have broken it up into two, but I didn't know where to break it up at, and figured it didn't really matter, so I kept it as one big one. I hope you enjoy it and hopefully I'll be able to get the next chapter up quickly.

* * *

Friday morning, Jessie had breakfast with her grandfather. After the conversation had lulled for a little bit, her grandfather said, "She was asking about you again."

"Ok," Jessie said, almost ignoring the statement and continued eating.

"She's changed, you know."

"Good for her. Drugs are bad."

"Look, Jessie, I'm not going to tell you what to do," Mr. Curtis started.

"Like Hell," Jessie interrupted, still eating. "Otherwise you wouldn't say anything."

"But the least you could do is talk to her," he finished as if Jessie never said anything.

"What so we can hug and pretend nothing's ever happened between us?"

"'Forgiveness does not change the past, but it does enlarge the future.'"

"Thank you Mr. Boese," Jessie said.

"Paul Boese, very good," Mr. Curtis praised. "Will you at least think about it?"

"Yeah, sure."

"That's all I ask," he replied. "That and for you to pass the salt."

"Sure," she said handing him the shaker.

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It was a rare thing for Jessie to be scared, but that's exactly what she was. She looked at the front of the building after she paid the cabbie and noted how it looked like every other halfway house she'd ever seen. She thought about what her grandfather had said, and figured he was right. The least she could do was talk to her. At least she'd have an excuse to bail if things got too uncomfortable.

"Now or never," she muttered as she steeled herself and knocked on the door.

A tall man who looked like a club bouncer answered the door. "Can I help you?"

"Is Sara Curtis here," Jessie asked, her voice shaking.

He looked Jessie over and said, "Well, you don't look like a drug dealer, but can I see some ID?"

"Sure," Jessie said, handing the man her ID.

"Las Vegas Police? What's she done," he asked.

_Shit_, Jessie thought. "I'm sorry, she hasn't done anything. I.. I'm her daughter…"

"Ok," he said stepping aside and handing her back her ID. "Third door on your right."

"Thanks," she said. Jessie made her way down to the room the man had pointed out. The door was shut, so she took a minute to compose herself before knocking.

"Come in," said a voice from the other side. Jessie opened the door and saw her mother for the first time in almost 20 years.

"Can I help you," Sara Curtis asked. She studied the girl in front of her, thinking something about her seemed familiar. When the realization dawned on her who it was, she asked, almost breathlessly, "Jessica? Is it really you?"

When Jessie tried to talk, she discovered her voice wouldn't work, so instead she just nodded. She watched as her mother slowly approached her. "I can't believe it," she said, tears filling her eyes. "After all these years…"

"Grandpa James said you were asking about me."

"Please sit," she said motioning to one of the few chairs in the room. "I know it's not much, but…"

"He said you were serious about cleaning up, starting over," Jessie said sitting.

Her mother looked down and said, "I can't ask you to forgive me. I can tell you I was high and wasn't thinking straight, but that doesn't change the fact that I tried to sell you for drugs. Or make up for the nightmare you experienced at your father's home."

"You're right, it doesn't," Jessie said. "And I don't know if I'll ever be able to forgive you. If you're serious and you do turn your life around, I can try, but things will never be all that great between us."

"I understand," her mother said.

"Do you," Jessie asked, leaning forward. "Do you really understand everything that this entails? It's not going to be like the movies, where we have one scene where we cry and hug and everything's ok. This is going to take years and you're going to have to deal with a lot of issues from your guilt to my anger because of what you did."

"I do understand," her mother said. "If you're willing to give me the chance, then I'll do whatever I can. What I don't understand is why you'd be willing to."

"Because, whether I like it or not, it's made me who I am today. You won't go away if I just ignore you, so I'd better learn to deal with you before I turn into an alcoholic or something."

"Thank you," she said quietly.

"Don't mess this up," Jessie warned, "because if you do, I'm gone. Forever."

Sara Curtis nodded her head and said, "Lunch should be served any minute. Would you like to stay? It's not much, but every Friday Martin, the owner, makes a big deal about having group meals. Most of the other people who live here have friends or family come…"

"I've got to get up to Fallon to meet some people."

"Oh, ok," her mother said, her face falling.

Jessie debated it in her head for a minute before she said, "Let me call one of the guys who's also going up. He was planning on getting there a little later than the rest of us, so I might be able to just catch a ride with him."

"Really," she said, her face brightening. "Only if you want to. I don't want to put you out, especially if you're meeting with friends…"

"They'll wait for me," Jessie said standing. "I won't be able to stay long, though. Nick was stuck with court duty today, so he'll probably be leaving in two hours or so."

"That's ok," her mother said.

She made a move to hug Jessie, but she quickly put up her arms and said, "We're not at that point. I'll let you know when we are."

"Oh… Alright."

"Could you lead on to the dinning room? I had an early breakfast and I'm kind of hungry."

Her mother smiled and said, "Right this way."

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Sara Curtis watched from the window as Jessie made her way to a dark blue Denali. She still couldn't believe Jessie was willing to give her a second chance and that she'd agreed to stay for lunch.

Martin walked up next to her and said, "That's some daughter you've got there."

"I know, and I'm not even sure how she got that way. Certainly nothing I've done."

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Nick was a little curious when he got a phone call from Jessie asking him to pick her up on his way out of town since he knew she planned to go up with Sara and Grissom, and ever more so when he saw her walking out of a halfway house. They rode in silence for a bit when he finally asked, "So, were you visiting a friend?"

"No, my mother," she answered with a sigh. "I'd really rather not get into it."

"Ok," he said, "but if you ever need to talk about anything, I'm here."

Jessie looked over and said, "Anything is a big word. Are you sure you'd be up to that?"

"Wouldn't have made the offer otherwise," He answered, quickly looking over to meet her eyes before shifting them back to the road.

"I won't talk about my mother, but I just might take you up on your offer about what happened in that village. That's not a story I like telling, and since you already know about it…"

"Anything you need," Nick said.

"May I ask why?"

"Why what?"

"Why you'd want to listen?"

"The reason isn't complicated," Nick warned.

"I've had about a year worth of complicated. I'd actually prefer it if you kept it simple."

"You asked for my help."

Jessie stared for a minute and asked, "That's it?"

"Pretty much," he said with a smile.

"Ok," Jessie said, turning to watch the road.

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When Jessie walked into the Drunken Sailor she felt a rush of excitement and contentment that it made her shiver. Sara and Gil were already sitting at the bar next to her seat with drinks in front of them. Sara turned around and saw Jessie and Nick standing in the door way

"Are you gonna stand there all night or are you going to sit down," Sara asked.

Jessie took a seat at her usual spot. When Phil walked up, she said, "I'll have a bacon burger with barbeque sauce."

"We don't serve that," he said. "Just hamburgers."

"Do you have a side of bacon and barbeque sauce?"

"Yes."

"Then just put a side of bacon on it and add a side of barbeque sauce. It's not that hard of a concept."

He raised his eyebrows and said, "I'll get right on it. Do you need me to get another one for your girlfriend when she shows up?"

"No, your wife called and said she couldn't make it tonight."

Phil started laughing and as he took the order to the cook, he said, "I missed you too."

"But I didn't go anywhere," Jessie said. She then turned to Sara and whispered conspiratorially, "He never listens to me. Hey, is Jose working," Jessie shouted.

"_Si_, _puta_," he shouted from the bar's kitchen.

"Hell no! You did not just call me a bitch, _cabron_," Jessie yelled back as she made her way to yell at him.

Sara, Nick, and Grissom watched her walk away when they heard someone say, "This happens every time." The looked over to see a guy in a Navy uniform, like half of the other patrons, with black hair and intense blue eyes. He was sitting in the seat next to the one Jessie normally occupied. "Those two will be at each others throats for a couple of minutes, and then she'll come back and start up with Phil."

"You come here a lot," Sara asked.

"Used to. I was in the Gulf for a while, but now I'm back. Hey, you want my seat," he asked Nick, when he saw that he was standing. "I was just on my way out."

"Are you sure," Nick asked. "I thought those seats were used as some type of memorial."

"It's just a barstool," he said. "If you'd prefer to stand, fine, but if you want it, it's yours."

Just then Jessie came around the corner and stopped dead. Her face lost all color as she stared at the guy that had the seat next to hers. "Mark," she barely whispered.

"I was just telling Nick here he could have my seat," Mark said conversationally. "I don't know if anyone else here'll get the message, so could you pass it on for me?"

Jessie just nodded, unable to move. Phil walked up and said, "You've got to be shitting me. If it's not one of you, it's another. Can't you all find the 'Great Beyond' without hanging out in my bar?"

"Oh, come on Phil, you know you love it," Mark said, standing. He took one final look at Jessie before he walked towards the door, slowly vanishing as he moved. When he had disappeared completely, they all felt a shiver go down their spine.

When Jessie could find her voice again, she said, "You need to change the name of this place."

"Why's that," Phil asked, still staring the way Mark had gone.

"Because you're gettin more ghosts than sailors."

"Well what do you suggest? Drunken Ghost?"

"I was thinking more along the lines of The Ghost Ship," Jessie said, sitting at her normal spot. When she saw Nick was still standing, she said, "You can sit if you'd like."

"Are you sure," he asked nervously.

"Yeah. It's just a barstool," Jessie said as he took a seat.

"The Ghost Ship… That's not bad, but then I run the risk of tourists showing up. You know how annoying they can be."

"No, but I'll get to find out. I got a job as a Detective with the LVPD."

"They hired you," Phil asked. "What did they have a retarded monkey they needed to replace?"

"No, last I heard you didn't work for them, Phil," Jessie said with an innocent smile.

"Always the wise ass," he said as he grabbed her glass and refilled it.

"I can see why she's one of your favorite customers," Sara commented sarcastically.

Before Phil could give a response, they all heard someone say, "Will you just go away and leave me alone!"

They all turned to see a girl at the other end of the bar being bothered by one of the regulars.

"You don't mean that baby," the man slurred.

Sara turned to say something to Jessie when she noticed she'd already took off for the two people.

"Please, just go," the girl pleaded again.

When he tried to advance, he felt someone grab his arm. He looked over to see that it was Jessie. "What do you want? I thought you were a lesbian."

Jessie fought the urge to roll her eyes, and instead said, "The girl said to leave her alone."

"Everyone knows that when a girl says no, she really means yes. Isn't that right," he asked the terrified girl.

"I'm only going to tell you once," Jessie said. "Walk away."

"Or what," he asked, trying to intimidate Jessie by going toe to toe with her.

"We'll play another round of Hide-the-Bottle," Jessie said, unflinching. The man quickly backed down and walked away. "Come on," Jessie said to the girl. "We've got an empty seat by us." The girl quietly followed Jessie back to her seat. "You can have the seat next to Nick," she said, pointing to the seat Terry used to sit in.

"Are you sure? I thought those were saved," the girl whispered.

"It's ok. They're for my friends, but they won't be needing them anytime soon."

"What's Hide-the-Bottle," Gil asked as Jessie sat.

Jessie smirked and said, "Something I learned in Guam. You first knock the guy out- usually by slamming his head into the bar, but that part is really up to you- then you pull down his pants, take a beer bottle, and, well, hide it."

Sara smirked and shook her head and said, "Only you would know that."

"Anyway," Jessie said with a smile once the girl was settled, "This is Nick, Sara, Gil, and I'm Jessie."

"Hi," she said quietly, unable to meet anyone's eyes. "I'm Jamie."

"Nice to meet you Jamie. Just passing through," Jessie asked lightly. Jamie barely nodded her head in the affirmative, and Jessie said, "You might as well tell me what's wrong."

"What," Jamie asked, the first thing she'd said that wasn't a whisper.

"You're obviously running from something. You can't solo it forever without burning out." Jamie just stared at her with a deer-in-the-headlights look. "It's ok," Jessie said talking again and pulling out her ID. "See? I'm a cop. And these three, they're criminalists."

That seemed to calm Jamie a little and Sara watched in amazement and she watched her sister coax Jamie into telling her story.

"Well, if you want my advice," Jessie started once she'd finished, "you can only run for so long. What you need to do is set yourself up somewhere. Have some kind of support system."

"But I don't even know where to go. I've never had a job in my life," she said weakly.

"Hey Phil," Jessie shouted, "need someone to help clean up and wipe down tables?"

"You volunteering," he asked.

"No, but Jamie needs a job and a place to stay."

Phil walked over and looked the girl over. She was small and he could see faded bruises all over her face. She hid them well with makeup, but he'd been working this job long enough to recognize it. This wasn't the first girl Jessie had made him take in, but each time she'd asked, there'd been a good reason. More often than not, they were abused women. He thought of all the things he wanted to do to the son of bitch who hit this girl, should he ever show his face, as he said, "I can pay $8.50 an hour and set you up in a small apartment in a complex my cousin owns down the street."

"I don't know," Jamie said, her voice shaking.

"Do you want to go back to your abusive husband," Jessie asked.

"No…"

"Then you can either keep running, or you can set yourself up here. I've known Phil forever," Jessie said, "and there's no one else I'd rather have watching my back than him."

"It's up to you," Phil said.

"Why would you want to help me," Jamie asked in a small voice. "There's no way I'd ever be able to repay you."

"Don't worry about that. We all need help from time to time," Jessie said. "So what do you say? Are you going to keep running or are you gonna stay and fight, should the coward show up?"

"I'll stay," she said. "Thank you."

"No problem," Jessie said with a smile. "That's what I'm here for."

"Jess, can you watch the bar while I walk Jamie to my cousin's place?"

"Sure," Jessie said as she stood up and then jumped over the bar.

"You could have just walked around the side," Phil said, trying not to roll his eyes.

"Yes, but they'd be expecting that."

"Who would?"

"The government."

Phil just stared at her before walking away, mumbling, "You're so weird."

"And you're trusting me with your bar. What's that make you?"

He just gave her a dark look before walking out with Jamie.

"I've really missed this place," Jessie said with a sigh.

"I can see why," Grissom said. "You definitely have a niche here."

"Hey Dixon," someone in the back shouted. "The jukebox isn't working!"

"What the hell do you want me to do about it," she shouted back. "I'm a cop, not an electrician."

"Maybe Griss and I could take a look at it," Nick volunteered.

"Go for it," Jessie said. Once they walked away, she said to Sara, "This should be entertaining. There's a trick to it, let's see if they could figure it out."

"What's the trick?"

"You gotta kick it twice, swear at it, then kick it three more times."

"You're kidding."

"What can I say, the jukebox is a masochist."

"That is disturbing on so many levels," Sara said as she looked over her shoulder and watched Nick and Grissom try to figure out what was wrong with the machine. "Are you ever going to help them?"

"Eventually," Jessie replied.

"Gil and I decided to throw a Halloween Party," Sara said, changing the subject, as she faced Jessie.

"Costume?"

"Yeah, but you don't need to wear one."

"Of course I do," Jessie said. "I don't think I'll be able to request the night off, considering how new I am, but I'll see what's going on."

"Ok."

"Now is there something you need to tell me," Jessie asked, leaning forward.

"No," Sara said, "why?"

"Because, you're not drinking alcohol and I haven't seen you drink any coffee, just decaf, for the last week. Also, I've noticed whenever you hear some loud noise that startles you, your hand immediately goes to your stomach." At Sara's blush, Jessie said, "It's ok, you don't need to tell me yet, but you might want to tell Grissom."

"Is it that obvious I'm pregnant," she asked.

"To me it is, but I'm trained to notice details."

"So is Gil and the rest of the team," Sara countered.

"So what does that say about them," Jessie asked with a smile. "You've got nothing to worry about, my guess is he'll be so excited he won't be able to keep still."

Sara smiled and then turned when she heard Nick swear. "Maybe you should go help them out."

"Yeah, they might actually break something," Jessie sighed as she made her way over to the two frustrated men and the machine.

* * *

A/N: Don't forget to review and let me know what you think! 


	17. No one expects the Spanish Inquisition!

A/N: Ok, about this chapter... Where to start... I wrote this as a joke in response to what my roommate suggested. I really hadn't planned on writing the whole Spanish Inquisition scene, just have them dress up and say "No one expects the Spanish Inquistion!" That's it. But when my room mate saw this, she was adament that I post it. When I said I didn't know if it would flow ok, although it did give some character development, she stole my Criminal Minds Seasons 1 and 2 as well as my animal crackers. I have mid terms wed. Eating animal crackers while I study is my good luck charm and I finally saved up enough to afford Criminal Minds. Therefore, I was left with little choice but to actually post this. I'm sure Mary (my roommate) would have evenutally returned the DVDs, but I got the animal crackers in a huge tube (that wasn't cheep, considering I'm a poor college kid) and I have no doubt they'd be gone in a week. If you don't like it, I'm sorry, although, I don't think it's too bad.

A/N 2: If you've never seen the Spanish Inquisition scene, you really need to to understand this chapter. You can find it on youtube. I tried to post a link to it here, but it wouldn't let me.

* * *

Nick was lying in bed, unable to sleep, when he heard someone knocking on his door. They had stayed at the DS until Phil kicked them out at 3:00, and decided they would get a room for the night instead of trying to drive the 7 ½ hours back to Las Vegas.

As soon as he opened the door, Jessie said, "I don't want to sleep with you."

"Umm, ok," he said, confused, as he stepped aside and let her in. "Where did that come from?"

"Usually when someone knocks on your hotel door late at night that means they want to sleep with you. I just wanted to talk with you."

"Ok, what's up?"

"You were planning on going to Sara's party, right?"

"Yes."

"What were you planning on going as?"

"I hadn't really thought about it. Why?"

"Because I have an idea, but I need two other people to complete the outfit. Also, I had an idea that could be fun, but again, I'd need to find another two people willing to go along with it."

"What did you have in mind," Nick asked. After Jessie told him her thoughts, he smiled and said, "We could probably get Greg to dress up with us."

"What about the other two people we need?"

"I'll talk to Warrick and Ronnie. They'll probably be willing to go along with it."

"Great," Jessie said, walking to the door. "Now I'm excited. I have no idea how I'm going to sleep."

Once she left the room, Nick pulled out his phone and called Greg, who was stuck working that night. "Return the spacesuit you rented," he said when Greg answered, "something's just come up."

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Six Days Later

Jessie's first week was coming to a close, and fortunately for her, she'd gotten the night of Sara's party off. She had no doubt Sara had talked to Brass to make it happen, and normally Jessie would have had a massive problem with that, but she was just so excited she let it slide. She had been waiting to do something like this for almost three years and she had a hard time concentrating in a couple of her interrogations.

Brass had paired her up with Sophia Curtis this first week. They worked well together, but as usual, Jessie couldn't help herself and used Det. Curtis and the butt of many jokes. To her delight, Sophia didn't put up with her crap and usually had a good comeback.

Jessie was standing in the LVPD break room, filling up her coffee mug, waiting for shift to end, when Sophia walked in. "Hey girl from blond jokes. What can I do for you?"

"I just need you to sign off on this," she said.

"Alright," Jessie said as she signed to document. "Anything else?"

"No, you're done for today. I'm taking off as soon as I drop this off at CSI."

"Do I detect a hint of agitation?"

"I have to drop this off to Grissom, and he's going to want to have a discussion on it…"

"And you have somewhere to be?"

"A date with an E.R. doctor at Desert Palms who works the same shift as me. We're meeting in two hours and I still have to get ready."

"It can't take that long to look ready to jump in the next available bed."

"Jealousy is very unbecoming."

"Give me the file," Jessie said with a smirk. "I'm heading over to CSI and I'll drop it off for you. If Grissom says anything, I'll just tell him you had to get going."

Jessie made her way to Grissom's office and left the file Sophia had given her on his desk. That task done, she went out looking for Nick and Greg. She found both of them hanging out in the A/V lab.

"How's it going, boys," Jessie asked as she entered the room.

"Not bad," Nick said. "All set for tomorrow?"

"You bet. We're still meeting at my place at 5?"

"Yeah," Nick said. "I talked to Warrick. We just have to text him once we're in place and he's going to open a window so we can hear what's being said."

"And I talked to Ronnie," Greg said. "She's all set to play her part."

"I got the costumes. Did you get the props," Jessie asked.

"All taken care of," Greg said. "Are you sure Sara's not going to get mad at us?"

"If she get's mad at anyone, it'll be me," Jessie assured him. "All you need to worry about is knowing your lines."

"I've watched that scene on youtube so many times, I've got it down," Greg replied.

"Good," Jessie said with a smile. "See both tomorrow."

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"Hey Sara, you mind if I open a window," Warrick asked. He had just gotten a message from Nick that they were in place and just waiting for him to say the line.

"Go ahead," Sara answered him. "It is getting a little stuffy in here."

"Thanks," he said as he headed over to the window, almost tripping over his huge cutlass. He and Catherine had shown up dressed as pirates. Catherine was less than amused when Brass, who had come as a sheriff from the old west, referred to her as Warrick's 'wench'. Sara watched as Warrick opened the window and saw Catherine entered the room, looking as if she was going to kill someone. When she set her sites on Warrick, Sara cringed a little. There had been a lot of tension between the couple recently, and she really didn't want them to start fighting here. Unbeknownst to everyone, Catherine and Warrick had arranged this to go along with what Jessie's plan.

"Warrick, what do you think you're doing?"

"I'm opening a window," he said defensively.

"Not the window, before that!"

"Got something to drink?"

"No not that," she said, faking exasperation. Everyone had stopped moving and was tensely watching the pair. Only Ronnie saw the ruse for what it was and tried not to laugh. "I know you know what I'm talking about!"

"Look, I just opened the window! I didn't expect the Spanish Inquisition!"

Suddenly the door swung open and Jessie, Nick, Greg all burst in. "Nobody expects the Spanish Inquisition," Jessie said dramatically while she folded her arms across her chest.

"Oh my God," Sara muttered when she saw what was going on. The three were dressed in perfect replica to the original Spanish Inquisitors from the Monty Python's skit. Jessie was the leader, complete with a wide brimmed cardinal hat and fake goatee. Nick stood to Jessie's right with an old leather pilot's helmet and Greg was to her left, also dressed like the original Python, holding a rolled up scroll and two white poster boards tucked under his left arm.

Jessie allowed for a dramatic pause before she continued, mainly to gauge everyone's reaction. When she saw amusement from everyone, including Sara, she continued, "Our chief weapon is surprise, surprise and fear! Fear and surprise! Our two weapons are fear and surprise and ruthless efficiency! Our three weapons are fear and surprise and ruthless efficiency and an almost fanatical devotion to the pope! Our four, no," Jessie said holding her hands up. "Amongst our weapons… Amongst our weaponry are such elements as fear, surprise… You know what, I'll come in again," she said and the three of them ran out and shut the door.

Warrick looked around and said, "I didn't expect the Spanish Inquisition."

Once again, the door swung open and Jessie, Nick and Greg burst in. "Nobody expects the Spanish Inquisition! Amongst our weaponry are such diverse elements as fear, surprise, ruthless efficiency, an almost fanatical devotion to the pope, and nice red uniforms… Oh damn!" Jessie turned to Nick and said, "I can't say it. You have to say it."

"What," he asked, feigning surprise.

"You have to say the bit about 'our chief weapons are,'" Jessie loudly whispered to Nick while she faced everyone in the room.

"I-I couldn't do that," Nick replied. Jessie then turned and pushed them all out again.

"You've got to be kidding me," Warrick sighed. "I didn't expect the Spanish Inquisition."

The trio burst in again, this time with Nick standing in front. "Uh… uh… Nobody… uh… uh…"

"Expects," Jessie leaned in and whispered loudly.

"Expects! Uh… Nobody expects…um… expects the um… the Spanish… um…"

"Inquisition," Jessie loudly whispered again.

"I know! I know! Nobody expects the Spanish… uh… Inquisition. In fact those who do…"

"Our chief weapons are," Jessie corrected.

"Our chief weapons are… um… uh…"

"Surprise…"

"Surprise… uh…" Nick said, doing his best to keep from smiling.

"Stop that! Stop that," Jessie said, jumping in front. "Whew, ok. Our chief weapon is surprise, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah. Cardinal Greg! Read the charges," Jessie said dramatically as she once again folded her arms across her chest.

Greg stepped forward, unraveling the scroll, and announced, "Ronnie Lake! You are hereby charged that you committed heresy against the Holy Church!"

"That's enough," Jessie said, causing Greg to step back. "Now, how do you plead?"

"I'm innocent," Ronnie said, trying not to laugh.

"HA!" As soon as Jessie stared to laugh the other two joined in and Greg pulled up one of the poster boards that had "Diabolical Laughter" written on it.

After a minute, they stopped laughing and Jessie started talking, and Greg switched it with the other poster board that said, "Diabolical Acting."

"We shall soon change your mind about that, woman," Jessie said with her right arm flailing dramatically. "Fear, surprised, a ruthless efficiency," she started rambling and quickly brought her hand up to smack her forehead in an effort to stop as Greg lowered the poster board. "Cardinal," she announced menacingly, "the rack!"

"HA HA!" Nick laughed as he turned around and pulled something out of a bag. When he turned back around he revealed a rack, as in a shelf and not the torture device. "HA!"

Jessie saw it and did a comic double take and brought both hands up to her face. "You…! Right," she said, acting self conscious. "Tie her down." The two men went over to Ronnie and tied the rack to her, all the while laughing maniacally. Jessie stood in the same spot, trying hide her face in her hands out of a fake embarrassment. When they were done, she walked up and said, "Right. How do you plead?"

"Innocent!"

"HA! Cardinal, give the rack… Oh dear," she said turning away again. Taking a breath to steal herself, she ordered, "Give the rack... a turn!"

"Uh…"

"I know! I know you can't! I didn't want to say anything! I just wanted to try and ignore your crass mistake! It makes it all seem so stupid!"

"Shall… I… Uh…"

"Oh God! Just pretend for God's sake!"

"HA HA HA!" Nick said as he turned back towards Ronnie. Then he lifted his hand up and pretended to turn a wheel.

"I don't know if this is encouragement to give you time to plan for something like this or to drop it on you at the last minute so you can't," Sara asked as the scene came to a close.

"Both probably," Jessie said smiling as Nick and Greg untied Ronnie.

As they put everything away, Jessie whispered to Greg, "Told you she wouldn't be upset."

* * *

A/N 3: Hope you liked it, if you didn't, blame my roommate. I was able to write another chapter that fits a little better with the story as well thanks boring professors. 


	18. Just Another Day

Two days after the party, Jessie was working a case with Keppler and Catherine. They were called out to a double homicide of two college graduate students. Catherine was in another room dusting for prints while Keppler and Jessie were doing a walkthrough of the crime scene.

"What are you thinking," Jessie asked.

"I walked into the house," Keppler said role playing. "I was invited in; there were no signs of break in, or even struggle."

"I don't know about that," Jessie said. "Have you seen the other rooms?"

"Yes, they were all clean."

"No," Jessie corrected, "they were barely lived in. Those rooms were where they slept, but they didn't live there. They lived in this room."

"How do you figure?"

"Why are bedrooms so appealing," Jessie asked.

"Privacy, a place for yourself. Where you can relax and let go."

"Exactly. You can throw your clothes on the floor, blast your stereo, and just close off the rest of the world. But there was nothing in those rooms that suggest that it was used as a haven. There's a bed and a few pictures. That's it. No posters of favorite bands, no stereo, no CDs, no computer… Their kitchen has more life than that. No, everything anybody would need to relax is found out here."

"What does that have to do with signs of struggle?"

"The only guys I know who keep things this clean are Marines. These are grad students who have class from 8 in the morning until 4 in the afternoon, followed by a night shift as security guards at a nearby factory."

"Which means that even if they wanted to, they wouldn't have time to clean," Keppler said, understanding Jessie's point.

"You can look for blood, but I'd be surprised if you find much, if any."

"Why's that?"

"It took three days for anyone to find the bodies. Nobody heard or saw anything in this neighborhood? That shows planning on an almost obsessive level. Your suspect is highly organized and more than likely suffers from a severe form of Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. Everything has to be perfect for him: the plan, the execution, posing the bodies… everything. My guess is his drive to make everything perfect drove him to clean the room, even if it was unnecessary."

"So I came here planning on killing them," Keppler said, once again role playing, "but I've never been here before. I probably know them from work or school."

"Considering they were getting their masters in some advanced physic theory class I can't even pronounce, I'm going to guess the suspect is a classmate over a coworker."

"Security guards are usually police academy rejects: all ego, little brain. Some personality disorders, but mostly narcissism."

"At this high a level of science," Jessie said, "it's a mental disorder smorgasbord."

"I'll start with classmates," Keppler said.

"You might want to take Sara with you."

"Why?"

"She's got a degree in Theoretical Physics and might understand what they're saying. I know she's just closed the case we were working, so you might want to call Grissom before she gets reassigned."

"Thanks," he said walking to go talk with Catherine.

A couple hours later Jessie and Sara were walking towards the science building on the LVSU campus.

"What am I doing here," Jessie asked. "This was supposed to be you and Keppler."

"He and Catherine had evidence to go over, so it's me and you. That's not a problem is it?"

"Yes," Jessie exclaimed. At Sara's dark look, she explained," There was a reason I became and SP and not an engineer. I can understand algebra and some calculus, but that's where my knowledge ends."

"Don't tell me you're intimidated by the people we're going to interview."

"No," Jessie answered, "I just don't like feeling like an idiot."

"Tell ya what, after we finish this shift, we can have a 'Criminal Minds' marathon and you can sit and tell me how you've already figured everything out."

"Ok," Jessie replied with a sigh.

They entered the building and went to one of the vic's classes.

"Professor Jackson," Jessie asked the man standing at the front of the room.

"Yes."

"I'm Detective Jessica Dixon, and this is Sara Sidle, she's with the Las Vegas Crime Lab."

"What can I do for you two?"

"Do you recognize these boys," Jessie asked, showing him a picture of the vics.

"That's Mathew and Mark Parker," the professor said. "They were two of my brightest students. What happened to them?"

"That's what we're trying to find out."

"Have their brothers been informed?"

"We didn't know they had any other brothers," Sara answered. "What are their names?"

"Luke and John Parker. They'll be in here next hour."

"Would you know if they had any enemies," Sara asked.

"They had rivals," the professor said. "Who doesn't in this competitive field?"

"Any with OCD," Jessie asked.

"Have you taken any Theoretical Physics classes, Detective?"

"No sir," Jessie said with a smile. "I barely got through high school physics. My sister got the brains of the family."

"It takes a unique mind to understand this field," Professor Jackson said condescendingly.

"So a mental disorder is kind of a pre-rec for anyone looking for a degree in Theoretical Physics," Jessie asked, shooting a smile at Sara who only glared at her.

"I wouldn't put it so crassly," the professor said, "but essentially, yes."

"I'm gonna need a list of all their rivals," Sara said, doing her best to ignore the amused look Jessie was giving her.

As they walked out, Jessie said, "I'm glad you talked me into coming. We should do this more often."

"Why don't you start with the interviews," Sara said, again trying to ignore Jessie. "I'll look for the brothers."

"Could you imagine being named after a book of the Bible," Jessie asked.

"What?"

"Mathew, Mark, Luke, and John, those are the brothers' names. It's also the first 4 books of the New Testament."

"Which means their parents are probably very religious," Sara sighed.

"This could get interesting," Jessie said as she went off looking for the guy on the top of the list.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Two hours later, and Jessie still hadn't found anyone who fit the profile of the suspect. She was down to the last person on her list, Jeffery Heather, and the moment she met him, she thought she'd finally found her suspect. He had an internship with some research firm Jessie had never heard of. He had been given a small cubical in the back of the office.

"He's a strange one," the office manager said as they made their way to Jeffery's cubical. "I'm constantly getting complaints about him messing with other people's stuff, saying that it has to be clean. When one of our employees tried to stop him, Jeffery attacked the guy. Gave him a black eye and scratches up and down his arms."

"Sounds aggressive."

"Yeah, that's him over there. Just a tip, don't touch his stuff. It sets him off."

"I'll keep that in mind," Jessie said as the office manager walked away. Oh yeah, he was definitely the type. If she was going to get any information out of him, she was going to have to keep him on edge, which just happened to be a talent of hers.

"Jeff Heather," Jessie said as she walked up to the cubical the office manager pointed out.

"Jeffery, my name is Jeffery," he said angrily. He looked to be about 5'9", 175 lbs. He had wiry brown hair and light brown eyes hidden behind thick glasses.

"Yeah, sure, Jeff," Jessie said, watching him carefully, "I have a few questions for you."

"My name is Jeffery," he yelled.

"Ok, ok, Jeffery, do you know these two boys," Jessie asked, showing him the pictures of Mathew and Mark.

"Yes, they were classmates of mine," he said nervously as he brought a hand up and started chewing on his nail. "But I don't know what happened to them."

"I think you're lying, Jeff."

"My name is Jeffery," he stammered out.

"Don't lie to me, Jeffery," Jessie said. "I need to find out who killed these boys, and I think you know what happened."

"No, no, I don't know anything. I'm very busy," he said, turning his back to Jessie. "Now please go away, I have work to do. Work someone like you could never begin to understand."

Jessie turned his chair around so he was facing her and leaned down to get in his face. "Let's get one thing straight, Jeff: I'm not going anywhere. You can talk down to me, you can turn your back on me, but I'm not leaving."

"My name is Jeffery!"

"I don't give a damn," Jessie said, leaning in closer. "Now you're going to talk to me or I'll have to take you down to the station."

"I'm very busy and I have a lot of work to do," he stammered. He was about to start yelling, but then saw Jessie's hand slowly drift towards his cup with all this pencils in it, which was right next to the one with his pens. He watched in silent horror as her wrist snapped, knocking both cups over.

"Oops," Jessie said. "I'm so clumsy. This kind of thing happens all the time."

"You… you… you made a mess! No! You're running my work station!"

Jessie quickly grabbed the documents on his desk and said, "I'll toss these over the room if you don't start cooperating Jeffery."

"Give them back," he yelled as he launched himself at Jessie. She caught him and flipped him and pinned him face down and said, "That's assaulting an officer. I'm gonna have to take you in for that." She cuffed him and led him out to her car kicking and screaming the whole way.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"So are you busy tonight," Catherine asked as she examined a piece of evidence. There was no way she could look at Keppler and ask him, her heart was beating too fast for that.

"Excuse me," he asked, looking up from the file he was reading to make sure he'd heard her correctly.

"I asked if you were busy. If you're not, I was wondering if you wanted to grab a bite before next shift. If you were I'd ask someone else."

"What about Warrick," Keppler asked.

"We had plans at the Bellagio for 6 tonight, but Tina, his ex wife called him and insisted he meet with her, tonight. So he cancelled on me and I wanted to know if you were free." When he didn't say anything, she said, "Look, it's ok if you can't come or if you feel too weird about it. I just really don't feel like eating alone tonight. If you're busy I'll find someone else."

"I just don't want you to use me to drive a wedge between you and Warrick," he said.

"I already told Warrick I was asking you."

"And…?"

"He didn't have problem with it." When he was silent again, she said, "Look, if you don't want to, would you just say so already no I can find someone else?"

He silently studied her for another minute before asking, "Pick you up at 5?"

"I'll be ready," she answered, relief flooding into her as Grissom walked in for an update.

"We're just waiting to compare a DNA sample from the suspect Jessie brought in to compare it to. If it's a match, we'll have our killer," Catherine concluded.

Just then Jessie walked in, barely able to contain her grin.

"What's so funny," Catherine asked.

"Oh, you'll see. Sara should be just a minute with those results."

They smelled Sara about a minute before she entered. Part of her shirt was ripped up near the shoulder, which she tried to hide with a jacket that had a huge stain on it and she had the smell of decomp and lemons emanating from her.

"What happened," Grissom asked.

"I went to get a DNA sample from the suspect. Apparently I was unclean, so of course, he had to bite me," she said, showing them her hand with the bite mark, "and in all the excitement one of the officers caught my shirt and ripped it. I put my jacket on to cover it when the suspect threw up on me. I dropped off the sample and changed. As soon as I walked out of the locker room, I ran into Greg, who just happened to be carrying some liquefied remains and spilled some all over my change of clothes. I went to go take a shower just to realize I was down to 2 lemons in my locker, and after I finally remembered your combination," she said to Grissom, "I found out you were out. The two lemons did nothing but mix with the smell of decomp."

When she saw Jessie and Catherine barely able to hold back, she said, angrily, "This isn't funny."

"Of course it's funny," Jessie said, still trying not to laugh.

"I'm sorry," Catherine said, her face going red in her endeavor not to start laughing.

"Here's the results," Sara said, glaring at the two women. "The DNA's a match. Now that that's over, I'm clocking out so I can go home and take a shower," she said leaving the room.

As soon as she was gone, Jessie turned to Grissom and said in between deep breaths, "I think you should clock out as well."

"Why?"

"This is just a guess, but after the day she's had, she made need some help applying the lemons in the shower."

Grissom smirked, and as he left the room, he said, "See you all tomorrow."


	19. Clothes are overrated

Grissom walked out of the bathroom with a towel around his waste and hand drying his hair with another towel. He stopped for a minute to adjust the one around his waist when he felt Sara's arms snake around him.

"Where do you think you're going," she asked, pressing her cheek into his back.

"Well, I was planning on getting dressed," he said, turning his head in an attempt to see her.

"Nu-uh," she said, her grip tightening on him. "Clothes are overrated."

"Really," he asked turning in her arms to embrace her.

"Absolutely," she said giving him her half smile. "You have too great an ass to hide behind pants."

Grissom was just about to reply when his cell phone went off. He dropped his head and met Sara's forehead as he muttered, "You've got to be kidding me."

"Go," she said with a sigh. "It might be important." As Grissom left to go answer his phone she saw she had a message on hers.

"_Sara, it's Jessie. Just wanted to let you know you'll be doing the __interrogation__ with Jeffery Heather tomorrow with Mike Keppler. I'd be there, but I've been forbidden to talk with him. Long story. Anyway, just wanted to leave you this message when I'd knew you'd be busy so I would__n't__ hear you yell. Now I'm being dragged off to some bar with Nick and Greg that has absolutely no reception. Bye!_"

"That was Ecklie. I have to go," he said walking back into the bedroom. When he saw her anger displayed clearly all over her face, he said, "I'm sorry. This is out of my hands…"

"No, it's not you. Jessie just left a message dumping me with the interrogation tomorrow."

"Where are you going," Grissom asked when she started to take off.

"To go find Jessie!"

"Honey wait!"

"I know what you're going to say Gil, but I'm fine. I won't let my temper get in the way."

"Actually I was going to recommend you get dressed."

Sara stopped and looked down, just to see she was still just wearing a towel. "Ok, good call," she sighed and headed back to the bedroom.

-----------------------------------

"Eight ball, left center pocket," Jessie said after she lined up her shot. True to her prediction, she sank it.

"Pay up Greggo," Nick said, laughing. As Greg dug the money out of his pocket, Nick asked, "What were you thinking betting against her?"

"That sooner or later her luck would run out."

"I was in the Navy for 15 years," Jessie said, coming up behind them. "We spent all our time in bars playing pool."

"Uh-oh," Greg said.

"What?"

"You know that call I got from Sara?"

"Yeah, why," Nick asked.

"Don't tell me you told her where we were," Jessie asked.

"That answer is about to present itself…"

"Jessie, what the hell were you thinking ditching the interrogation," Sara demanded.

Jessie cast a dark look at Greg before turning to her sister. "I told you in my message: I've been forbidden to talk to the suspect. You won't be alone; Keppler's going to be there." When Sara's glare grew darker, Jessie said, "Wow, ok Iraqi insurgents didn't scare me as much as you do right now."

"Hey Greg, why don't we go get another round," Nick said, grabbing the younger man and leading him away.

"Why are you forbidden? What did you do?"

"Jeffery's attorney is claiming that I intentionally provoked him into the response that caused him to attack me, which led to his arrest."

"Did you?"

"Officially, I would never do anything that could unnecessarily put myself or anyone else in harms way."

"And unofficially?"

"I played that son of a bitch like a fiddle."

"I don't know how to handle this guy. The last time I talked to him he bit me."

"It's easy. All you gotta do is have Keppler do the talking. You have to play the nice card with him. Hell, talk physics with the kid; just do whatever you can to make him trust you. Then, you need to impress how you want to help him, and he'll never get to tell the world his story if he doesn't talk."

"Alright," Sara said with a sigh, "but I'm gonna kick your ass for this later."

"It'll have to be much later," Jessie said. "Have you told Grissom yet?"

"No. I was going to tell him tonight, but he got a call-in just as I was about to say something."

"You might want to hurry up and tell him. You only have a small window before he'll figure it out on his own, and you can bet he won't be thrilled that you hid it from him."

"I know, I know. I plan on telling him tonight. I promise."

"Good luck," Jessie said, putting a hand on Sara's shoulder. "You know how get a hold of me if you need to."

"Yeah."

"Ok, now if you'll excuse me, I'd better step in before Greg gets his ass kicked by that biker," Jessie said slipping away and making her way over to Greg and the huge man he'd accidentally spilled his beer all over.

-----------------------------------

Gil was at his desk doing paper work when he heard a knock on his door. He looked up to see Warrick standing there.

"Hey Gris, you got a minute?"

"Sure, what can I do for you," he asked as Warrick took a seat.

"I need some advice. I just don't know what to do anymore."

"Is this about a case?"

"No, Catherine," he said.

"I don't know how much help I can be."

"But you know her better than anyone," Warrick countered.

"Alright," Grissom sighed. "What's going on?"

"When I first heard that Catherine had arranged for Keppler to come back to Vegas, I was upset and not sure what to think. But when he got here, he didn't try to make any moves on Catherine and I started to believe her when she said there was nothing between them."

"But now you don't," Grissom asked.

"I don't think Catherine's cheating on me, but, I don't know, something just doesn't feel right. I've felt it since he's been back. And last night," he said, his voice failing.

"What happened?"

"Catherine and I had plans for our anniversary, but Tina called, insisting on talking to me. I wouldn't have gone, but she was adamant. I told Catherine and expected a fight. Instead she just looked at me with sad eyes and instead said she was still going out, and if I had a problem if she asked Keppler. There was no way I could say no."

"So what happened?"

"Tina dropped a bomb on me, and when I went to go talk it over with Catherine, I saw her with Keppler, just like she said she would be, and there was this light in her eyes… A light I haven't seen in a long time. I used to be able to put that light there, but it's been a while since I've done it."

" 'If you love someone, let them go. If they return, they were always yours. If not, they never were.' "

"So you're saying that I should let her go," Warrick asked.

"I think that if you continue as things are, you will do nothing but strain your relationship with her until there is nothing left."

Warrick nodded his head and with a worn out sigh said, "I guess you're right. I'll talk with her tonight. Thanks Grissom." He got up and Grissom returned to his paperwork when he heard Warrick say, "Hey Sara. How's it goin?"

"Not bad," she responded. Grissom looked up again to see Sara leaning on his door.

"Hey," he said as he watched her close and lock the door behind her. "How'd your interrogation go," he asked.

"Good," she said as she made her way toward him. "We got the confession."

"That's good," he said as Sara slid onto his lap.

"Well, I came back, so it looks like I'm always yours," she said with a half smile. At Grissom's curious expression, she said, "I overheard the end of your conversation with Warrick."

"Ah," he said.

"What if I had come back, only to tell you I was moving on and started dating someone else?"

"I wouldn't have stopped you," Grissom answered. " 'To truly love someone is to never begrudge them their happiness, where ever they may find it.'"

"Well, it looks like you're stuck with me," she said, smiling up at him. " 'As for me, to love you alone, to make you happy, to do nothing which would contradict your wishes, this is my destiny and the meaning of my life.'"

"Napoleon Bonaparte," Grissom said.

"Should have figured you'd know that one," she sighed as she burrowed deeper into his chest.

They sat there quietly for a minute when Grissom sensed there was something bothering Sara. "Are you ever going to tell me what's on your mind?"

"What," Sara asked, confused.

"Something's been bothering you for the past few weeks, and I was just wondering if you were ever going to tell me."

"I wouldn't say it's been bothering me," Sara said. "Gil, I'm pregnant."

-----------------------------------

An hour before the end of shift, Jessie had stopped by to talk to Sara when she saw Catherine in the break room looking really depressed. Against her better judgment, Jessie walked in and coaxed Catherine into telling her what was wrong.

"So let me get this straight," Jessie said, leaning back in her chair. "When Keppler was here, you fell for him and went on a few dates. But he got shot and went back to Trenton, completely disappearing off the radar, and Warrick got his divorce. There's a spark between the two of you, so you start going out. Then one day you hear Keppler's trial has come to a close, and as a favor, you help him get a job here. Keppler doesn't want to cause any problems for you and just wants you to be happy, so he steps back and doesn't interfere with your relationship with Warrick. Warrick sees there's still a strong connection between the two of you, so he breaks up with you so you can be with him. So here you are, with two guys in love with you, but neither will go out with you so you can be happy with the other one. Is that about it?"

"More or less," Catherine sighed.

"Who needs TV? This has all the makings of a great soap opera."

"You're not helping," Catherine stated angrily.

"Sorry," Jessie said, smirking. "Look, the best thing I can advise is to let fate decide."

"What, I should put both their pictures on the wall and throw a dart at them , and whoever's picture the dart hits is the one I'll date?"

"Actually I was thinking more along the lines of flipping a coin, but whatever works for you," Jessie said.

"Isn't this a little more serious than to just flip a coin over?"

"Just trust me," Jessie said as she pulled a coin out. "Now heads is Warrick, tails is Keppler." She flipped the coin in the air, caught it, slapped it on her hand but kept it covered while she asked, "What do you think it is?"

"What?"

"Heads or tails?"

"I don't know," Catherine said.

"You got a 50-50 shot," Jessie said. "What's your gut telling you it is?"

Catherine thought for a minute before saying, "Tails."

"Why tails?"

"I don't know! You said to tell you what my gut thought, and my gut is telling me tails."

"Actually it's heads," Jessie said, watching her reaction.

"Oh," Catherine said, not sure what to think.

"Is that disappointment I detect," Jessie asked.

"I… I just really thought it'd be tails."

"Thought or hoped," Jessie asked. "You shouldn't base your decision on this, but it is something to think about."

Catherine thought about it for a minute before standing and saying, "I have to get going if I want to see Lindsey. I'll see you tomorrow."

"See ya," Jessie said as Catherine brushed passed her.

"So was it really heads," Nick asked behind her.

"See for yourself," she said extending her hand, revealing tails. "How long have you been standing there?"

"Awhile. You lied to her."

"True, but if I'd told her the truth, she may never have asked herself why she thought it was tails. Now she'll do that."

"I see. Hey, are you busy tonight," Nick asked awkwardly. "Cause if you didn't have anything going on, I was wondering if you wanted to grab something to eat before shift."

Jessie gave a short laugh and asked, "Nick, are you asking me on a date?"

"I… well… um…"

"This is a yes or no question," Jessie said, a smile playing on her face.

"Yeah, I am," he said with a sigh.

"Now see, that wasn't so hard," Jessie said. When Nick smiled, she said, "I'd love to."

"Pick you up at 6," Nick asked.

"I'll be ready," Jessie said, smiling and leaving the room.


	20. The pig is dead

A/N: I was watching the "Dead Parrot" scetch and I couldn't help myself. Hope you like it.

* * *

The next night Grissom had the whole team in the conference room. The only one missing was Sara, who was just finishing up on a case.

"Alright," Grissom started, "whatever cases you may be working on have taken a backseat. We have a serial murderer on our hands and evidence suggests that we only have hours to catch him before he strikes."

"What evidence do you have," Warrick asked.

"An unknown male blood sample, a few finger prints, and his pattern."

"That's it," Catherin asked. "How many people has this guy killed?"

"Ten that we know of. That's why it's important that we catch him soon," Grissom said. "He's good and he's smart. The only reason we were able to get his blood sample was because his last victim was able to put up a fight."

"So we have nothing to go on forensically or have any idea who his next victim could be," Catherine sighed. "What we need is a profiler to point us in the right direction."

"Jessie has experience in profiling," Greg thought aloud, just as they heard a familiar voice.

"Why are you mad at me," Jessie asked loudly.

"I just asked you to grab me something to eat on your way back here," Sara answered angrily.

"And I did. Look," she said, grabbing Sara's arm, "I told you I was going to a deli, they don't exactly specialize in vegetarian cuisine."

"A peanut butter and jelly sandwich was the best you could do," Sara demanded.

"Look, you wanna trade? I'll take the PB&J if it'll make you happy."

"What kind of sandwich did you get?"

"Ham and Swiss."

"I don't eat meat," Sara said angrily. Neither woman noticed the CSIs moving from their spots in the conference room to the hallway, in case things escalated.

"Why not? The pig is dead. It has met its demise, past on, is no more, ceased to be, expired, gone to meet its maker and joined the choir invisible! It is a late pig! All that's left is its earthly remains. It is ok to eat them."

"You know what would make a great movie," Greg asked, trying to distract the two. "If they made a movie about animals getting revenge on humans! You know, something like 'Bambi's Revenge!'"

"Or," Jessie said, running with Greg's idea, "you could do a remake of Rambo, and we'll use the Muppets, just so we can get kids to go see it. Kermit can play the part of Rambo who attacks slaughter houses after they killed Miss Piggy. You can bet PETA would jump all over that…"

"What is wrong with you," Sara demanded.

"A lot of things, but at this moment? Not enough sleep, way too much TV. My insomnia struck and I found one channel was having a Monty Python marathon and another had a Muppet's Show marathon, so I flipped back and forth." When she saw the looks she was getting from everyone but Sara, she asked, "Why are you all looking at me like that?"

"Like what," Catherine asked.

"Like you're all a bunch of sharks that just came across a bleeding fat guy in the middle of the ocean…"

"We need your help," Grissom said. "We've got a serial killer loose and no way of finding him."

"What can I do," Jessie asked. "I'm just a detective."

"You're a trained profiler," Catherine said. "You can see things that we can't."

"So can you," Jessie said, trying to get out of it.

"We've searched everywhere. The evidence we've got will convict the suspect, but not find him."

"Nothing I tell you can be used in court."

"We just need to be pointed in the right direction," Catherine said. "Only you can do that for us."

"Alright, I'll take a look," Jessie sighed.

"It's all set up in here," Grissom said, opening the door to the layout room. "I'll let Captain Brass know you're helping us."

"Ok thank you. Do you happen to have any pictures of the crowds that gathered at the crime scenes?"

"They might be in a few shots, but we didn't go out of our way to get their pictures," Catherine said. "Why?"

"Because with this kind of killer," Jessie said, scanning the pictures of the different crime scenes on the table, "you're dealing with someone who likes to examine his work, see people's reactions, that kind of thing. Could you have someone go over the pictures you do have of the crowds from the different scenes to see if anyone's been to more than one?"

"Ronnie," Grissom said nodding to the young CSI.

"Also, set up a tip line and make an announcement that the LVPD is looking for any information that could help. I promise he'll call."

"Why would he do that," Greg asked.

"Because it'll make him feel important. Seriously kid, you need to watch more episodes of Criminal Minds. It'd save on my explanation time."

"You know they should make a show about criminalists," Greg said excitedly.

"Are you kidding," Jessie asked. "How lame is that. What would the show be about? Running lab tests? I can see it now, while printing a DNA report, the printer jams and the CSIs all rush to solve the problem! Come on, who'd watch a show like that?"

"Well, I'd think it would be pretty cool," Greg said defensively.

"Of course it would be," Sara said, putting her arm around the young CSI. She glared at Jessie as she said, "Just ignore her; she can be a real ass sometimes."

"Look, don't get bitchy with me because you're hormones are all outta whack. That's not my fault, that's his," Jessie said, pointing at Grissom. "Now, if you'd all excuse me, I actually have work to do."

"What's eating her," Greg asked as they left the room.

"With Jessie it could be anything," Sara said.

"Alright," Grissom said, interrupting the conversation, "Sara, Warrick, Mike, I want you each to go over the crime scenes again, just in case we've missed anything; Nick, I want you to take another run at collected evidence; Greg, look again to see if there's some type of link between these women; Catherine, you and I will talk to the Undersheriff about that tip line."

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Three hours later everyone but Jessie and Ronnie were sitting in the conference room again.

"We didn't find anything new at the crime scenes," Warrick said. "We looked everywhere, under every nook and cranny."

"Same with the evidence," Nick said, trying to rub the tension out of his eyes. "Dead end."

"I might have found something on the victims," Greg announced. "They were all attorneys."

"That's not saying much, Greggo," Nick said with a tired sigh.

"It wouldn't be except for the fact that they all had cases in the same courthouse, and usually by the same judge."

"How did we miss this," Grissom demanded.

A knock on the door prevented anyone from answering. They all looked up to see Ronnie standing in the doorway.

"Jessie has a profile for you."

* * *

Reviews are my crack. Please keep the addict happy: The more you give me, the more I give you. 


	21. The Profile

They walked into the layout room to see Jessie sitting with her head in her hands. Her eyes were closed and there was a slight frown on her face. Once they had all filed in, she opened her eyes and began to speak.

"You're looking for a white male, between 30-40, average height, good looking but not hansom. He'll dress well enough to cause you to take a second look, but not enough to conspicuously stand out. He'll drive a newer truck, probably silver, and the make will not be more recent than an '06. Personality wise he has to be in control, especially with women. When it comes to his job, he'll do well, but he won't really stand out to his boss. He's not a sociopath; he knows the difference between right and wrong."

"What makes you say that," Greg asked. "You'd think to do something like this you'd be emotionally depraved, I mean look at the vics!"

"Look how he poses the bodies," Jessie said, pointing to one of the victims. "Even though they've been stripped, he's covering them with a blanket and he crosses their arms. That tells me he shows remorse. If he really didn't care about these women, he'd just leave them naked. Now, anyone else want to interrupt me or would you rather wait until I finish to ask questions?" When no one said anything, she continued, "He was abused as a child, probably watched his father abused his mother."

"So we're dealing with a wife beater," Sara asked, feeling the usual bile rising in her throat for these cases.

"Yes and no," Jessie said, looking at the pictures. "He abuses women needing to show dominance, but something's off. I'm not sure what it is."

"Anything else we should know," Grissom asked.

"Yes," Jessie said, leaning back in her chair. "He's speeding up. It used to be a month between kills, then weeks, and now days. Soon, it'll be almost daily, and he'll slowly lose control of himself. If cornered, he won't surrender. If anything, it'll be an SBC."

"SBC," Ronnie asked.

"Suicide by Cop," Jessie answered without emotion. "In regards to his victim choice, it is my belief he's choosing women who remind him of his mother," Jessie said, rubbing her head.

"Come again," Warrick asked.

"Did I stutter," Jessie asked angrily. "I'll repeat myself just in case: It is my belief he's choosing women who remind him of his mother. For whatever reason he blames her for the abuse he received as a child and is taking out his anger on these women."

"He's killing his mother over and over," Greg asked. "That doesn't make much sense. Why doesn't he just kill her and get it over with?"

"I'm not here to answer that. I was asked to give you a profile, and I have done so. Now," Jessie said, exhaustion seeping into her voice, "if there's anything else I can do, let me know. If you'll please excuse me," Jessie said as she quickly left the room.

When Sara made a move to follow her, Nick put his hand up and said, "I got it."

"Jessie," Nick yelled as he chased her down the hall.

She turned and gave him a worn out look and asked, "What?"

"You alright," he asked.

"I just got into the head of a serial killer who was abused as a kid and gets off beating, raping, and killing women. What do you think?"

"I know that has to be hard…"

"I don't remember much of my birthmother before they arrested her," Jessie interrupted, "just the day of the arrest. What I do remember is Danny Sidle liked to use his wife as a punching bag, and if the right mood struck him, his kids." Nick just stood with his mouth open, not sure what to say. "He wouldn't touch me, but Jack… sometimes Sara…" she said, her voice trailing. "Well, you know the type. It's disturbing enough to get into their heads, but when you're looking into someone who could be you or someone you know… It's draining to say the least."

"Do you need anything? Is… there anything I can do," Nick asked, searching her face. He was hoping to find some sort of emotion, and was nervous when he didn't see any.

"No. I've got work I need to get done."

"I'll see you later?"

"Yeah, sure," she said, turning away.

Nick watched her walk away and sighed. Warrick came up behind him and slapped him on the back. "Come on, Romeo, we got work to do. Ronnie's found someone in the pictures who shows up at several of the crime scenes."

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Jessie sat at her desk filling out paperwork regarding the double homicide they had just closed. She threw herself into her work to try and forget the profile she'd just done. She loved her work, especially the psychological part of it all, but she hated being in that kind of position, a position where she could easily see herself as the perp. She shook her head and doubled her efforts to get back to work when she felt someone's presence stop at her desk, and looked up to see Catherine standing there.

"What can I do for you," Jessie asked, turning back to her work.

"We need your help. We think we found the guy. He's DNA matches the last crime scene."

"So what do you need me for?"

"Well, it was a construction site. The construction company working there is owned by his cousin and our suspect goes over occasionally and helps out. He has a justifiable reason for his blood there."

"But you still think he's your guy," Jessie guessed.

"Everything else fits," Catherine replied. "He's 35, drives a 2004 silver Ford F-150. When he was 10 years old, his father went to prison for killing his mother. This is our guy, we're not getting anywhere with him. We need your help getting inside his head one more time."

"I was there once 3 hours ago. Why would I want to go back?"

"Because if you don't help us, he could go free, and another innocent girl is going to die."

Jessie stared at Catherine for a minute, before leaning back in her chair and heaving a worn out sigh. "Lead the way to the interview room."

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"Okay, Sara, I want you and Keppler doing the interrogation," Grissom said to the two CSIs.

"No," Jessie said, entering the room, "Catherine and Brass should do it." Jessie looked through the two way mirror and stared at the suspect.

"Why," Sara asked.

"Because Catherine fits the type as his mother and Brass looks the part of a wife beater."

"Gee thanks," Brass replied.

"It'll unsettle him; make him more likely to make a mistake. Captain," Jessie said, turning to Brass, "You need to act aggressive towards the suspect while Catherine needs to stand up for him by telling you to calm down, to take it easy. In response, you need to act dismissive at first, then downright insulting towards Catherine. Got it?"

"Yeah," Brass said. "Come on, woman. Let's go give Mr. Calvin a childhood flashback." When Catherine glared at him, he smiled and said, "Just getting into character."

"One more thing," Jessie said as they made their way out. "If I come in there, go along with whatever I say."

"You got it," Catherine said, following Brass.

Brass walked in first, practically slamming the door in Catherine's face before saying, "Mr. Jonathan Calvin, we've been looking for you, you pervert."

"Brass, we're just here to question him. He's not a suspect yet."

"Yeah, sure, we just have his DNA at a crime scene, what do I know," Brass said, rolling his eyes.

"Which he's explained," Catherine pointed out.

"What are you his attorney? Come on, you're supposed to be on my side," Brass said, frustration seeping into his voice.

"I only look for answers, finding these guys is your job."

"Then shut up and let me do it. Women," he said shaking his head and meeting Jonathan's eyes.

"You were right," Sara said. "Brass does fit the role as an abuser. Funny I never noticed that about him. How can people turn out like this? How do they learn abuse is ok?"

"They see it when they're young and they view it as normal," Jessie explained, watching the interview. "It's during our childhood that we pick up what we look for in relationships from our parents. That's why boys who witness their father abuse their mother will become abusers and girls who witness it will become the abused."

"I didn't," Sara pointed out.

"Nobody does at a conscious level."

"Are you saying I subconsciously went out of my way to look for someone to abuse me," Sara asked in disbelief.

"For six years you waited for Dr. Grissom," Jessie said, still watching the interrogation, "and in those six years you did receive psychological abuse from him. He pushed you away, recommended someone else for a promotion, and the list goes on. Part of your subconscious saw the potential for the abuse, however unintentional, from Dr. Grissom. Clearly things have changed and the abuse has stopped, and you have both broken the cycle, but for a time, it was there. Think about the past boyfriends you've had. How many of them betrayed you, and I mean really betrayed you," Jessie said, making eye contact with Sara for the first time. "Then ask yourself if somewhere, deep down, you were expecting it," Jessie said as she turned back to the interrogation.

Sara and Grissom stared silently at each other while Keppler stood awkwardly in the corner, when Jessie said, "I'm sorry. That was out of line. I have no business trying to profile your relationship with each other, especially with someone else in the room. What I said could easily be untrue. I shouldn't have said anything."

"It's alright," Sara said. After a minute she asked is there really scientific grounds for that theory?"

"Yup," Jessie answered. "In fact a psych magazine I subscribe to just ran an article about it. I'll get you a copy. Oh shit," she said. "We lost him. I'm not sure what just happened, but the suspect just closed up. There's no way he's going to talk now."

"There's nothing you can do," Sara demanded. "This is our guy! He works as a bailiff at the courthouse all the vics had cases and he fits the profile you gave us!"

"I'm not arguing that," Jessie said calmly. "What I'm saying is he's just closed up and won't be confessing anytime soon."

"There's nothing you can do," Grissom asked.

"I can push him over the edge," Jessie said. "That'll cause him to get angry and lose control. The down side is if he doesn't get angry and confess, it could result in a girl's death. However, if that does happen, he will get careless and make a mistake."

"I think it's a risk we need to take," Keppler said.

"So do I," Sara said, agreeing with Keppler.

"Are you sure you can get under his skin," Grissom asked.

"Dr. Grissom," Jessie said, with a hint of a smile, "if there is one thing I'm good at, it's pissing people off. Especially narcissists who believe women are useless."

"Alright," Grissom sighed, "but be careful." Jessie nodded and made her way into the interrogation room.

She opened the door and said to the suspect, "You're free to go."

"What's going on," Brass demanded.

"He's not our guy. O'Riley just brought her in and she confessed to everything."

"She," Brass asked. "I thought we were looking for a guy."

"Well, Mike got the profile wrong, again, and I was right, again." As she spoke Jessie watched the anger slowly build in his eyes, and decided to push a little harder. "She's also a lot smarter than this guy, no offense." His eyes turned black with rage as he slowly stood and was led out of the room by Brass and Catherine.

"Now we wait," Sara said as she appeared at Jessie's side.

"There's one thing I don't understand," Keppler said.

"What's that," Jessie asked.

"Because of your discussion with Sara and Grissom, you probably missed most of the interrogation, but he mentioned something about lying awake at night afraid of someone coming in his room."

"It's not a far leap from physical abuse to sexual," Grissom said. "If his father beat him and his mother, odds are he was also sexually abusive to both of them."

"But he said that his father was always on business trips and rarely home."

Jessie's face suddenly went white. "I know why the profile was off. He wasn't abused by his father, he was sexually abused by his mother. That's why he'd lie awake at night. His father probably went on those business trips to get away from his wife; he was too weak to stop her. He identified with his father, but didn't want his weakness. That's why he's killing his mother over and over: It's not because he blamed her for not stopping the abuse, but because she was the abuser and he doesn't want to be weak like his father." Jessie stood there, mentally going over something before going pale again and saying, "And I just pushed him over the edge and sent him away with someone I made take the role as his mother."

"What would he do," Sara asked. "It's not like he has a weapon."

"But it's not that hard to remove a side arm from an older detective who's not expecting anything," Jessie pointed out.

"There are cops everywhere here. If he tried anything it would be suicide…" Keppler said, his voice trailing.

"By cops," Sara finished.

"SBC," Grissom said. "Just like the profile."

The all took off running towards the front desk. By the time they got there, Brass was on the ground unconscious, and Jonathan Calvin had his gun and Catherine at gun point.


	22. I should be your hostage, not her

The four of them stood in stunned horror as they watched Jonathan Calvin hold Catherine hostage at gun point.

Jessie saw Nick standing closest to him, his gun drawn, trying to get him to let Catherine go. She made her way to him and whispered, "I need you to get these cops to lower their guns and step back so I can get close and talk to Jonathan."

"What," Nick asked, incredulous. "You do that and he'll kill you."

"Please trust me," Jessie said, looking into his eyes.

"You'd better know what you're doing," Nick sighed after a tense minute. "O'Riley, I need your help getting your men to back down. I'll explain once we're done."

Jessie watched silently as the police officers slowly holstered their weapons and moved back. She stood 15 feet away from Jonathan and Catherine.

"That was incredibly stupid," Jonathan said.

"Probably," Jessie said, nodding her head, "but where are my manners. My name's Det. Jessica Dixon. I was asked to help find you by profiling you from the clues you left me where you dumped all your victims."

"And how'd that work out for you," he asked, still holding the gun to Catherine's head.

"You proved incredibly tough for me to figure out."

"And why's that?"

"Because, from the moment I saw the first crime scene picture, I knew I didn't want to figure it out."

"Why not," he asked tauntingly. "Are you afraid of someone like me?"

"Yes, but not why you think. I didn't want to see who you were, because deep down I saw that you were me."

"What?"

"Yup," Jessie said, nodding her head as she started to pace a half circle around him. "We both know the same dirty little secret."

"And what's that," he asked, looking at her suspiciously.

"Not all mothers are gifts from God. Mine sold me for an eight ball. When she went to jail, I had to go live with my dad and his family, whom I'd never met before. While I was there my stepmother, Laura, took out her frustration by beating me."

For a tense minute, Jonathan looked Jessie over. Finally, he said, "Mine used to beat when Dad wasn't home. She loved using her curling iron on me."

"Laura used to like to use me for an ashtray," Jessie said, pulling her shirt collar down low enough to show the scars. "My chest was her favorite spot, but she did it all over my body.

"When Dad was on business trips," Jonathan said, "she used to come into my room at night and… and… well, you've probably figured it out."

"I have," Jessie said without sympathy. She knew that would be the last thing he'd want from her.

"My dad caught her. That's why he killed her."

"Laura tried once, with a toilet plunger. I was sick so I had stayed home from school. She must have chased me all around that house, twice, before I fell and twisted my ankle. Just as she was about to do it, my sister came in. She'd only had a half day of school that day, and after she saw me on the ground and Laura with the plunger, she grabbed me and let me hide in her room the rest of the day."

"You're lucky," Jonathan said.

"Tell me about it," Jessie said. While she had been talking, she had slowly been making her way closer as she paced. Once she was close enough, her hand shot out and grabbed the gun. She saw anger flash through his eyes as she said, "I could easily try to disarm you right now, but odds are you'd get a shot off. Whether or not that shot would hit Catherine would depend on my reflexes compared to yours. Personally I'd rather not gamble her life like that."

"So what do you suggest, Detective Dixon," he asked angrily.

"I know you didn't want to hurt any of those women. I know that because of the way you covered and posed the bodies. Something about them reminded you of the worst time of your life and you snapped. I told Catherine Willows to act like a mother figure and then I pushed you over the edge. This situation is my fault. I should be your hostage, not her."

"You would take her place," he asked.

"Yes. She is a single mother and her daughter's father is dead. If you start shooting and Catherine dies, her daughter becomes an orphan. I know you don't want to hurt anybody," Jessie said, forcing him to make eye contact with her, "so I'm giving you a way out. Let me trade places with Catherine."

"What are you doing," Catherine asked.

"Shut up," he yelled at her. He thought about it for a moment before letting go of Catherine's arm and pushing her away. She slowly backed away, never turning her back on Jessie and Jonathan.

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Nick couldn't believe what he was hearing. He looked over at Sara and saw sadness covering her face, but not surprise. He wondered what kind of childhood she must have endured where this kind of thing wouldn't shock her. He thought he'd had it bad being raped by his babysitter when he was a kid but this… this was something else.

He thought he was hearing things when she offered to take Catherine's place, but soon learned he'd heard correctly when he saw Calvin shove Catherine out of the way. Nick stepped up to grab Catherine and for a brief second he made eye contact with Jessie. She didn't look afraid, so he had to believe she knew what she was doing.

* * *

A/N:Sorry this was so short. I should have the next one done soon. 


	23. One of Our Own

Nick held his breath as he watched Jessie talk with Calvin.

"See, you can do the right thing," Jessie said. At some point she'd let go of the gun and he was pointing it at her chest.

"What are you talking about?"

"You let Catherine go. I know that wasn't easy. If I thought I had Laura at gun point, I'd have to think long and hard if I was going to let her go."

"Whatever," he said, pushing the gun harder against her. "You probably just made that up to get close to me."

"If I just made it up, where did I get those scars?"

"If what you say is true and we are alike, why aren't you exactly like me?"

"Because unlike you, I didn't have to face it alone," Jessie said. "At night I used to sneak into my sister's room and sleep on the floor next to her bed. I would wake up before her so I was convinced she didn't know about it. I found out I was wrong when I snuck in one night and found a pillow and a blanket on the floor where I usually slept. I remember this one night it was so cold and I was doing my best not to make any noise when I heard her say, 'You can sleep with me, you know.' Well, I was still pretending she didn't know I was there. Then I heard her heave a dramatic sigh, you know one of those really loud ones that only nine year olds can really do, and she leaned over the bed, grabbed me, and dragged me onto her bed. That was the first time I ever felt safe in that house…"

"I never felt safe in mine," Jonathan said, a sad and angry look in his eyes.

"That's why it's you standing here with the gun and not me," Jessie said. "I know you don't want to hurt me, I can see it in your eyes. Just give me the gun."

"I give it to you, they give me the needle."

"You don't and you'll die anyway."

"Yeah, but this way it'll be quick. If I give myself in, I'll be sitting on death row for years before anything happens."

"You give me that gun and confess to every murder you've ever committed, and I'll do whatever I can to make sure you get life without parole instead of the death penalty."

"Why would you do that," he asked.

"Because you never had a big sister to look out for you," Jessie said, once again putting her hand on the gun.

Nick stole another glance at Sara and saw tears welling up in her eyes. Suddenly, they were full of fear and Nick heard a gun go off. He looked over and saw Jessie covered in blood.

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Erin fiddled with her earpiece while she waited for her signal. After what seemed like forever, she finally got it.

"Thanks Mike," she said into the camera. "I'm standing on the steps of the Las Vegas Police Station where earlier tonight Jonathan Calvin, the man believed to be behind the recent string of homicides that has plagued the streets of Las Vegas, took a CSI hostage after police had interrogated him. Sources close to the Police Department informed us that one of the detectives traded places with the CSI just before the shooting broke out. We have here with us a man who was there. Can you tell me your name, sir?"

"David Hodges," he said.

"What happened in there?"

"Well, I was just finishing up my shift when I heard people shouting, and there was all this chaos… And then I saw him take a good friend of mine hostage… I didn't know what to do…"

"It must have been a very traumatic experience for you."

"Yes, it was," Hodges said, milking it for all it was worth. "I don't know how I'm going to sleep tonight. If only there was some beautiful woman who could comfort me tonight as I try to sleep and not relive the horror that happened today…"

"Hey Hodges, what are you talking about," Greg asked, appearing behind him. "You were with me in the Lab next store when it all happened. You didn't even know anything was going on until you saw it on TV."

"I don't even know who this guy is," Hodges replied. "You know, I've got some paperwork I've got to finish, so I'll talk to you later," he said quickly running away.

Erin had to do her best not to start laughing as she watched him leave. As she was turning back to the camera, she saw people leave the police station and recognized one of the men in the group.

"Captain Brass," she yelled and shoved the microphone in his face. "Do you have a minute?"

"What could I tell you that you don't already know," he asked impatiently.

"What happened in there tonight?"

"The suspect took a CSI hostage, and while one of our detectives was about to talk him into handing over his gun a rookie cop fired his weapon and injured both of them. The suspect's wounds were minor and he's now in custody facing multiple murder charges. Now if you'll excuse me, one of our own is in the hospital right now."

As he walked away, Erin turned back to the camera and said, "As you can see it's been a tense situation for all involved. This is Erin Johnson, Channel 6 Local News. Back to you, Mike."

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"Did you hear that? 'One of our own'," Jessie said happily.

"Yeah, I heard," Sophia said.

"He sounded really concerned," she added, excitement leaking into her voice.

"Yes he did."

"So tell me," Jessie asked, "how is it that I have a serial killer hold a gun to my chest but you're the one who gets shot?"

"It was a through and through," Sophia said. "I was in the wrong place, wrong time. It could have happened to anybody."

"But since it happened to you, I'm never going to let you forget it," Jessie replied with a smile

"Why are you here with me?"

"Shockingly, IA finished up with me first."

"What about Jones?"

"It wasn't looking too good for him. They allowed Gil Grissom to sit in with him, but…"

"He's not going to lose his badge, is he? He thought he was doing the right thing by shooting Calvin."

"And ruining one of my favorite shirts in the process," Jessie said, referring to her shirt that had been covered in Calvin's blood. "I don't think they'll take it, but he's at least looking at a suspension," Jessie said. "Oh, look, Captain Brass is here!"

He nodded at Jessie before walking up to Sophia. "How's the shoulder?"

"It's fine. They're just waiting on a few test results and then they're going to let me go."

"They also let her keep the bullet they removed," Jessie said.

"Good. So the two of you haven't killed each other, that's a good sign."

"Yeah, it hasn't been bad ever since she stopped saying I have a serial killer's blood flowing through my veins since the bullet passed through him first…"

"She wouldn't stop whining about the needles they were poking her with, so I said something I knew would distract her. By the way, you looked good on TV boss. I especially liked Hodges contribution."

Brass just rolled his eyes and said, "I need to check in on the suspect. I'll see you both later."

A few minutes later a doctor came in and cleared Sophia to leave. "Come on, Ted Bundy."

"Did you just call me Ted Bundy?"

"You're a serial killer now," Jessie explained with a smile. "The blood runs through your veins."

"Not this again…"

"Yeah well, this beats blond jokes, at least for now. Anyway, I gotta drive ya home."

"What," she demanded.

"You can't drive; you've got an injured shoulder."

"And you've got a lame left arm! How are you supposed to drive?"

"Hey hey hey! I'll have you know I've passed not only the Nevada's driving test but the police department's as well," Jessie said with mock anger, but Sophia saw the hurt in her eyes from the comment.

"Look, I'm sorry. I didn't mean…"

"Easy Jeffery Dahmer, it was a fair question."

"You know," Sophia said as they made their way to the exit, "sooner or later you're going to run out of serial killers."

"Wanna bet Theodore Kaczynski, aka Unabomber?"

"This is gonna be a long drive, isn't it?"

"You have no idea Charles Manson," Jessie said with a smile.

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Exhausted, Nick entered his house and threw his keys down. He collapsed onto his couch and was still processing the day's events when he heard a voice say, "It's about time. I thought you'd never come home."

His head snapped to where the voice had spoken, and he couldn't believe who was standing there. "This isn't possible..."

* * *

A/N: Tell me you didn't giggle when you saw that I put Hodges in. Anyway, reviews keep my muse happy, and the happier my muse is, the more I write. 


	24. We Survive

A/N: The length of this one is to make up for all the short one's I've been submitting lately.

* * *

"What, you've never seen a ghost," Mark asked, leaning against the wall across from Nick.

"Not since the Drunken Sailor," Nick said. "This can't be happening…"

"Wanna bet?"

"What are you doing here?"

"There was a hell of a long line to get into heaven. Get it? Hell of a long line to get into Heaven." When Nick didn't say anything, Mark asked, "Nothing? Not even a giggle? Ah well."

"Seriously what are you doing here?"

"I have no idea. Best I can figure is I have some sort of unfinished business..."

"What is this? Casper," Nick asked.

"Sure, mock the ghost. That's a smart thing to do," Mark said. "I have no idea why I'm still here, but I am looking for someone to hang out with and I've chosen you. You should be honored."

"Yeah, lucky me," he said, rubbing his forehead. "Why aren't you hanging out with Phil or Jessie?"

"I tried hanging out with Phil. He kicked me out of his restaurant, told me there was no way I'd find a way to move on by haunting the DS. As for Jessie… it would hurt her too much if I was there and she'd never move on, and that's what I want."

"What is?"

"For her to move on. With you."

"Me," Nick asked.

"You sound surprised."

"I would have thought you'd hate me."

"Why?"

"I don't know… I just figured that you wouldn't want anyone else to have her. Isn't that what ghosts do? Act all creepy and possessive?"

"Do you want my help or not?"

"First answer this: Why do you want to help me?"

"Sam Keen once said, 'We come to love not by finding a perfect person, but by learning to see an imperfect person perfectly.'" When Nick just stared at him with a blank look, he said, "You know her darkest secret and you've seen her at her lowest point and you don't care. To me, that makes you worth helping. Now, are you going to let me help you or are you just going to keep arguing with me?"

"Alright," Nick sighed, "you win."

"Thank you," Mark said. "As I was saying I want to help you and my first piece of advice is check up on her tonight. She may not act like it, but she's going to be pretty shook up by today's events."

--------------------------------------------------

Although he was exhausted, Nick made his way back to the Crime Lab in an attempt to find Jessie. He figured that she would talk to Sara before she headed home.

"You took a major risk today," Nick heard Sara yell as he was walking past the locker room. "You practically committed suicide when you traded places with Catherine."

"No I didn't," Jessie said. "I knew that he wasn't going to pull that trigger, which is why I knew I could find a way to talk him down."

"There's no way you could possibly know that," Sara stated.

"Whenever I'm at a crime scene with one of you guys, and you declare that there's blood on the ground, I believe you, even if it looks clean to me."

"What's your point," Sara asked, unsure of where Jessie was going with this.

"You understand physical evidence, I understand the human mind. You're going to have to trust that I know when someone's about to pull the trigger, just like I'm going to have to trust you when you say you've found blood."

"There's a difference! We have a scientific basis for all our work!"

"So do I. I can bring in a psychologist to examine a case file just like you can bring in an anthropologist to examine bone fragments."

"Jessie…"

"Look, I didn't come here to argue," she interrupted. "I forgot something I needed at my desk and I heard you were asking about me."

"I just wanted to make sure you were alright," Sara said. "It's been a hard day."

Just as Jessie was about to answer, Catherine saw Nick and asked, "Why are you standing outside the locker room? I thought you went home."

As soon as the words left her mouth, both Jessie and Sara stepped out and looked at him.

"How long have you been standing there," Sara asked.

"Awhile…"

"Why didn't you just walk in?"

"I didn't want to interrupt and get caught in the crossfire."

"Smart man," Jessie muttered.

"Are you guys doing anything," Catherine asked before things broke between Sara and Jessie. The whole lab heard them arguing and she wanted to intercept them before Ecklie did.

"What," Sara asked, unsure where that had come from.

"Keppler and I were going to go get a drink, and I wanted to know if you guys wanted to come."

"What about Warrick," Sara asked.

"He's with Tina right now," Catherine answered, trying to keep the bitterness out of her voice.

"I'll go," Jessie said. "It's not like I'm going to be sleeping anytime soon."

"I'll go see what Gil is doing, but we'll probably meet you there," Sara said.

"Nick, ya in?"

"Yeah, I'll just follow you guys," he said.

"You mind giving me a ride," Jessie asked him. "I have a feeling I might be drinking heavily tonight."

"Sure, your house isn't too far from mine."

"How do you know where she lives," Sara asked.

"I… um… well," he stammered, trying to think of something as Sara stared him down.

"Tomorrow is the day for interrogations," Jessie said, stepping in between the two. "Tonight is for you, me, and Catherine to get drunk while the men drive us home, ok?"

"Alright," Sara conceded after a minute, "but don't think I'm letting this go."

"Wouldn't dream of it," she said walking away. "See you and Grissom there."

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Double Martini here I come," Catherine said as soon as she walked into the bar.

"Forget the mixed drink shit," Jessie said, walking in behind her. "I'm going for straight shots of Jim Beam and Jose Cuervo."

"Are you sure that's the best idea," Nick asked as he and Keppler fought to keep up with the pair.

"What do I care? I'm not driving and they forced me to take a week off."

Just as they got to the bar, Jessie heard someone call out her name. She turned around to see some old friends of hers from the _Regan_.

"Dixon," one of them said, coming up to her, "you have no idea how good it is to see you. We really need your help."

"Johnny, can't you see I'm on a mission to get drunk? You'll have to find someone else."

"It's not me, it's Karen. She's had it really rough."

"Rough, let me tell you about the night I just had," Jessie said angrily.

"Allen, her boyfriend of three years who had finally proposed, was killed awhile back," Johnny interrupted. "We brought her here to take her mind off of things, but I don't think its helping. Jamie thinks she's about to kill herself."

"Why does she think that?"

"You know those suicide warning signs you told us just before we got to the Gulf?"

"Yeah…"

"She's shown all of them."

"Alright, I'll talk to her," Jessie sighed. She turned to Catherine and said, "Tell Sara not to wait for me."

A half hour later she was walking back to join everyone. Johnny had been right; Karen was suicidal, and Jessie had to tell the group that they had to report it. When they protested she had to force them to think about the consequences.

"Just one more thing to drink to," Jessie said to herself. As she got closer, she noticed there was a woman ranting loudly about something or other near the seat that was being saved for her. As soon as the bartender walked up, Jessie said, "Jose Cuervo, double, straight up and if you get it here in the next five seconds I'm giving you a twenty dollar tip."

"Yes ma'am," he said, walking away with a smile. He hurried back and Jessie pulled out a twenty. "I'll be right back with your change."

"No, that's for you. Keep my tab open," Jessie said as she picked up her drink.

"You agree with me, right," the loud woman unexpectedly asked, grabbing Jessie's shoulder, causing her tequila to slosh along the rim. What angered Jessie the most was that it missed her mouth completely.

"What would I be agreeing with," she asked angrily.

"Did you hear about that woman in Henderson?"

"Sorry, I've had kind of a rough night," Jessie replied impatiently.

"She killed her husband after years of abuse and now they're planning on charging her with murder. If it'd been a man he would have gotten off with nothing. I mean he beat her and her two children for years and…"

"How old were her kids," Jessie asked calmly.

"What," the woman asked, thrown.

"How old were her children," Jessie slowly repeated.

"I think the oldest was six," she answered.

"Did they see it?"

"Did who see what?"

"Did her children see their mother kill their father?"

"I think so, that's not important. What's important…"

"Not important," Jessie interrupted before shouting. "That's the most important thing! What did those kids do to deserve to watch their mother kill their father? They were only 6 years old!"

"He-he beat them," the woman said lamely.

"You don't know that! Sure, he may have beaten her, but she could have run away with them. Or she could have sent them away and then killed him. They didn't have to see that!"

"She saved them by killing that bastard," the woman yelled back.

"For the rest of their lives the only image they will ever have of their mother burned into their minds is when she killed their father, probably covered in his blood," Jessie yelled louder. "Even if she didn't go after them with the knife after he was dead, it still would have been terrifying. Do you have even half an idea how many years of therapy it takes to forget that image? Do you?" Jessie felt a hand on her arm and looked over to see that it was Sara. She looked around and saw that all movement in the bar had stopped and everyone was watching her. "Damn it, I can't even go out and get drunk anymore without something happening," Jessie said as she made her way to the exit.

She stepped out into the midday heat and leaned against the wall of the bar. She suspected Sara had followed her out and it was confirmed when she appeared a few minutes later and took position next to her.

After giving Jessie a few minutes to try and catch her breath, Sara said, "I've been thinking about what you said earlier, about girls whose mothers were abused look for men to abuse them."

Jessie gave a worn out smile and said, "That has got to be one of the scariest things I can think of."

"What is," Sara asked, turning to look at her sister.

"Somebody thinking about something I've said. The thing is, psychology degrees are a bitch. You can never stop analyzing… everything. I shouldn't have said anything. This case just had me so messed up, I couldn't think clearly. I'm sorry."

Sara nodded her head before saying, "I think you were wrong about my attraction to Gil, but you were dead on about my other boyfriends."

"I'm sorry," Jessie said with a rueful laugh.

"It's not your fault if it's anyone's, it would be our father."

"You're blaming Danny for it? That's odd. Most people blame their mothers."

"He beat her," Sara said angrily.

"Yes, but she knew exactly what he was when she married him," Jessie said making eye contact. "Remember, he was trying to get with Sara the same time he was trying to get with Laura."

"Why do you do that," Sara asked.

"Do what?"

"Refer to your parents by their first name?"

"It keeps them distant in my mind. Mom and dad… those aren't just words. There's a lot of meaning behind them. The greatest crime they ever committed was not when they sold me or beat us, but it was not being people who deserved those titles. Time has the ability to cause us to forget things," Jessie said, leaning her head against the wall. "I just want to make sure I don't forget that."

"What are we going to do," Sara sighed, and copied Jessie's pose.

"We survive. We have any other choice."

"So what are you going to do with all your free time this week?"

"Thinking about taking a trip to the DS, hang out with Phil for awhile."

"Should I ask Gil to give Nick the time off," Sara asked with a smile as she rolled her head to look at Jessie.

"Now way would you ask that," Jessie asked, coping Sara's smile as she looked over at her sister.

"For the same reason Nick won't tell me how he knows where you live."

Jessie's smile grew as she said, "Seeing as I could use the company, that might not be a half bad idea. But you and I should go up sometime and get drunk together. He has this drink called a suicide, it'll knock you outta your chair with the first sip. It's one part Jack Daniels, one part Jim Beam, one part Jose Cuervo, and one part Seagram's 7."

"Is that a challenge," Sara asked as they made their way back inside.

"You bet your ass it is."

"We'll have to wait for another couple of months," Sara said rubbing the bulge on her stomach that was just starting to become noticeable.

"Sure. Anyway," Jessie said once they got to the group, "I should probably go so Nick can get actually get some sleep."

"Are you sure," Catherine asked, clearly quite drunk.

"Yeah. Getting drunk would probably be a bad idea for me today anyway. I'll see you all later," she said as Nick stood up and they made their way to the exit.

--------------------------------------------------

Jessie kept running. She must have fallen about six times, and tripped over countless objects and furniture, but she kept running, had to keep running. She knew if she could just get to the door…

"Got you, you little bitch," Laura said, grabbing a hold of her hair and pulling back. Jessie screamed and begged for her to stop, and got a backhand across the face. Laura straddled her and lit a cigarette as she said, "Shut up or I'll hit you again."

Jessie knew whether she screamed or not the end result would be the same: that cigarette would be pushed against her chest. The only thing that she could hope for at this point is that she only went after her chest. She felt the cigarette start to burn her skin and shouted, "No, please, stop, that hurts!"

"I said shut up," Laura yelled as she hit her again.

As soon as Laura's hand hit her, Jessie jerked awake and sat up. As she tried to slow her breathing and stop her hands from shaking, she felt Nick's arms come around her.

"Are you alright," he asked. Once they had gotten to her apartment he suspected she didn't want to be alone so he'd asked if he could come in. When he mentioned she should sleep and she'd made a flippant remark about nightmares he'd offered to sleep with her.

"Nothing sexual," he had quickly added. "Just so you had someone there when things got really bad. Nothing makes the nightmares disappear faster than someone who's there telling you it was just a dream."

"I don't want to put you out," Jessie had responded. "One of us deserves to get some sleep, especially if you have to work in a couple of hours…" The debate had lasted for a few more minutes, but, in the end, he had won. And now, here he was three hours later, with her trembling in his arms from past ghosts that were haunting her dreams.

"I'm fine, just a dream," she said with a shaky voice as she gulped for air.

"Wanna talk about it?"

"Oh, just reliving my days as a human ashtray," Jessie said, trying to keep her voice light.

After she'd calmed down a little, he laid back down, pulling her with him and against his chest.

"Look, I'm sure you'd be more comfortable in your own bed," Jessie started, but was quickly interrupted.

"I'm not going anywhere. Go back to sleep." When she tried to protest, he said, "I've already won this argument. Just go back to sleep. I'll be here when you wake up, I promise."

Jessie sighed in defeat and quickly fell back to sleep. Nick was about to follow her, when he heard Mark say, "Nicely played."

"Have you been here the whole time," Nick asked, startled to see him.

"Yup," he said. "Just wanted to make sure she would be ok, but looks like you were on top of that. Anyway, I'll leave you two alone and go see if there's anyone on the strip I can mess with. I'll see you in a few hours."

"Nick, did you say anything," Jessie muttered, half asleep.

"No, go back to sleep."

"Ok," she mumbled as Nick watched Mark leave.

Once he was gone he just rolled his eyes and fell asleep.

* * *

A/N2: Now, since none of you are creepy stalkers, you wouldn't have known that the 12th was my birthday. If you send me a review, it'll make me very happy, even happier than all the belated cards I'm going to forget my whole family other than my parent's forgot it was my b-day... 

But in honor of St. Patrick's Day, which is right around the corner, I've come up with a fun limerick:

There once was a girl from Michigan  
Who liked to write fanfiction  
She had an evil muse  
Who lived off of reviews  
So submit one so she can write again

Come on, I at least deserve a review after coming up with that...


	25. Something feels off about this

A/N: Sorry if this chapter doesn't flow that well. This one had me going up the wall and at one point I almost drop kicked my cpu out of complete frustration. Towards the end I seemed to have gotten back on track, but I'm sorry if the beginning isn't so great.

A/N2: Not only do I not own CSI, but I also don't own the University of Michigan, their fight song 'Hail to the Victors' or any cheer they do that I have made reference to. I only spend money to go to school there...

* * *

Jessie awoke with a start. "I'm not sleeping," she groggily announced.

"You were for the past 6 hours," Nick said smiling, taking his eyes off the road for a second to look at her. They spent three days in Fallon, and although they spent most of their time at the DS, Jessie also showed him around town and took him on a tour of the Fallon Naval Air Station.

"Liar, I wasn't sleeping," Jessie said, knowing she wasn't fooling anyone. "Thanks again for coming with me."

"No problem. I enjoyed it."

"Sorry if I got out of hand with Phil," Jessie said, stifling a yawn.

"That was my favorite part," Nick said laughing. The two had ripped into each other the whole time, but occasionally Jessie would take a break and go after Jose. It was during one such break, Mark appeared and Phil saw him.

"Didn't I tell you not to hang around my bar," Phil asked.

"I'm with him," Mark replied, pointing to Nick.

"He randomly appeared one night and hasn't left me alone since."

"Better you than me," Phil said. "Just make sure you're not around when Jessie comes back. I don't need to peel her off the ceiling."

"All the same," Jessie said, her voice bringing him back to the present, "it meant a lot that you were there."

"Anytime," Nick said with a smile.

--------------------------------------------------

Grissom was busy knocking out his paperwork when he heard a knock on his office door. He looked up to see Warrick standing there.

"Come in," he said, pointing to a chair. Once Warrick had sat down, Grissom asked, "What can I do for you?"

"I'm going to need some time off," Warrick said, clearly nervous.

"Ok, how much time?"

"I don't know. A week right now, but I might need more in the future."

"Before I approve any time off I'm going to need to know why."

Warrick sighed and said, "I'm not sure where to start."

"The beginning is always a good place."

Warrick heaved another worn out sigh and said, "Tina wanted to meet with me a while back. Turns out, I have a son, and I met him for the first time yesterday. She hid from me because she wasn't sure if I was the father. She's still not sure."

"So why is she telling you about him now?"

"She's dying," Warrick said. "Doctors say it'll be a miracle if she survives the month."

"I'm sorry," Grissom said.

"Yeah, anyway, she thinks I'm the only one responsible enough to take care of Andre after she… after her disease runs its course."

"Are you going to take him?"

"If he's my son, I don't have a choice."

"What if you find out he's not your son?"

"After hearing from Sara what the foster system is like, there's no way I'm putting him through that," Warrick said. "He shouldn't have to pay for what Tina did."

Grissom looked Warrick over as he thought about the young man's predicament. "Here's what I'll do. I'll give you the week you've requested now. You still have all your vacation and sick leave, so you might want to try and use that wisely. And if I were you I'd talk to Catherine."

"I don't want to drag her into this, especially since she seems to be getting along so well with Keppler."

"I was actually referring to talking to her to ask for advice on raising a kid by yourself."

"Oh, ok, I hear you. I'll think about it. And Grissom," Warrick said standing and extending his hand, "Thank you."

"We're all here for you if you need it," Grissom said, taking his hand.

"I know," Warrick sighed and left the room.

--------------------------------------------------

Six Months Later

Grissom woke up to an empty bed. He quickly got out of bed and started looking for Sara. He found her on the couch staring out the window.

"Is everything alright," he asked as he sat next to her and put his arm around her.

"I couldn't sleep."

"I can see that. Do you want to tell me what's on your mind?"

"Only a few more weeks," Sara said, still looking out the window as she rubbed her belly. They had just had the baby shower she had promised Catherine. She thought about trying to get out of it, but when she saw the look in Catherine's eyes she knew it wasn't an option.

"You're not having second thoughts are you," Grissom asked, his voice laced with concern. He could barely contain his excitement, but could see that Sara was becoming more and more withdrawn.

"No, it's just…"

"Just what," Grissom asked when her voice trailed off.

"What if I turn into my mother," Sara asked, turning to meet Grissom's concerned gaze. It was then that Grissom could see she'd been crying. "How do I know I won't do the things my mother did to Jessie?"

He tightened the grip around her shoulders and pulled her close to his chest. He felt her tears flow again once her face made contact with his skin, and he stroked her cheek with his free hand as she cried. 

After a while she calmed down and said, "I know what you're going to say, but I just can't stop thinking about it."

"Maybe that's a good thing," Grissom said. When she looked up at him with a question in her eyes, he explained, "Anyone who knows you knows you could never do what your mother did. But if you're concerned about it and constantly watching for it… maybe that's the best way to make sure you never become her."

"Maybe you're right," Sara sighed after she thought about it.

"Come on," Grissom said standing and holding out his hand. "You should come to bed and at least rest." He helped her up and they made their way to their bedroom.

--------------------------------------------------

Jessie was just finishing up her shift. Because of some weird scheduling deal, she was transferred from the night shift to days. She loved her job, but she couldn't stand the people who worked days, be they CSIs or detectives. She tried to get her scheduled changed back to nights, but that was a never ending process. She made her way into CSI because she'd gotten a call from Grissom asking to meet with her. She knocked on his office door when she saw him behind his desk.

"You wanted to talk to me," she said when he looked up.

"Yeah," he said. "It's about Sara."

"Figured as much," Jessie sighed as she took a seat. "Not adjusting well to bed rest?"

"No," Grissom said as he tried to rub the tension out from behind his eyes. "And to make things worse for her, she's suddenly gotten this fear she's going to turn into her mother."

"Oh boy," Jessie said. "Alright, I'll go talk with her, but I don't know how much good that'll do. This is something she's gotta work out herself."

"I know," Grissom said, wearily nodding his head. "I just think it would help some if you talk to her. I just want to see her happy…"

"I'll head over there now," Jessie said standing. "It's not like I have anything to do now that all my friends work the night shift and I'm stuck with days."

Grissom watched Jessie leave with a sympathetic smile, and then turned back to finish up the work on his desk.

As Jessie made her way to the exit, she saw a frazzled Warrick walk in with Andre in his arms.

"Ant Jaycee!" the 17 month old squealed, waving his arms wildly and almost hitting his father in the face.

"Hey Andy," Jessie said, walking up to the pair. "Coming to watch daddy catch bad guys?"

"Baby sitter cancelled on me at the last minute and I don't know what to do with him."

"I just go off," Jessie said. "I don't mind watching him."

"Again? I don't want to put you out," Warrick said as he tried to control his squirming son.

"You're not putting me out if I'm volunteering. Besides, I still need to teach him the rest of 'Hail to the Victors'."

"Go Bwu," Andy shouted raising one arm, as if on command.

"Smart boy," Jessie said smiling. "Come on, seriously, I don't mind. Besides, it's either I hang out with Andy here or I'm stuck talking to myself. Remember, all my friends are on night shift." When Warrick looked like he was still debating it, Jessie said, "Although Grissom has been extremely supportive, what do you think he's going to say when you bring your son into the break room?"

"Alright, you win, but I'm going to find a way to pay you back."

"It's what friends are for," Jessie said, tanking Andy. Then she turned to the boy and said, "We're gonna have lots of fun hanging out, but first we gotta visit Aunt Sara."

"Ant Ara," he shouted.

Just then Nick came around to the front and saw the trio. "Hey Andy."

"Unca Nick!" he shouted.

"What, I'm not standing here," Warrick asked. "I see how it is."

"Don't take it too personally," Jessie said with a twinkle in her eye. "He's just communicating with people on the same wave length as him."

"Funny," Nick said. "Hey look what I taught him. Andy, what does a sheep say?"

"Baaaa," he responded loudly.

"What do cows say?"

"Moooo!"

"What does Aunt Sara say?"

"Raaaar!" he said taking his hands and making them look like claws.

"I am so disappointed," Jessie said, shaking her head at Nick.

"Why?"

"Because I didn't think of that."

"You do know that when she hears that she's going to kill me," Warrick said.

"No, she'll blame me," Jessie said. "Anyway, we should probably take off so you guys can pretend to work. I'll drop Andy off on my way into PD tomorrow."

"Ok, thanks. I really appreciate it."

"See ya boys," Jessie said as she and Andy left CSI.

"Man I don't know what I'd do without her," Warrick said as he and Nick made their way to the break room for assignments.

"We're all here for you when you need it."

"I know, I'm just not used to asking for help."

The break room was empty as Nick headed for the coffee pot and poured himself and Warrick a cup.

"So how's the schedule change affecting you and Jessie," Warrick asked as Nick handed him the coffee.

"It's not helping things," Nick said, sitting down next to Warrick. "Even if we have the same days off, we're on different sleep patterns. I'm not sure what to do."

"What's she sayin?"

"That she's trying to get a transfer back to nights."

"How's that workin out?"

"Who knows," Nick said, taking a drink.

Before they could finish their conversation, they were interrupted when everyone walked in and Grissom started handing out assignments.

--------------------------------------------------

Sara was in the kitchen making a cup of tea when she heard a knock at the door. She opened it to see Jessie holding Andy.

"There's Aunt Sara," Jessie announced.

"Ant Ara! Raaar," he shouted and had the same hand gestures as he did back at the lab.

"I did not teach him that," Jessie said when Sara glared at her.

"I bet," Sara said, letting them in.

"Knew I'd get blamed for that. Hey Andy, wanna watch TV while Aunt Sara and I talk?"

"YES!"

"Alright," Jessie said, taking him to the television as Sara went back into the kitchen. She turned it on to Tom and Jerry reruns and moved to the counter so she could talk to Sara and still see Andy.

"Gil sent you, didn't he," Sara asked, handing Jessie a cup of the tea that had just finished.

"Yeah, he did."

"I know he worries, but it's nothing," Sara sighed.

"I disagree, but that would probably be the psych degree talking. Besides, unwritten rule, whenever Laura starts messing with you, I automatically get involved."

"Look, Jessie, I don't need a lecture," Sara said, exhaustion dominating her voice.

"And I'm not here to give one. I'm here to listen." When Sara raised a questioning eyebrow, Jessie said, "I promise, no lectures or advice unless you give your permission."

"Alright," Sara sighed. "I guess it all started when you traded places with Catherine to be Calvin's hostage…"

--------------------------------------------------

When Warrick got off that morning he saw Jessie standing by his car with Andy in her hands.

"There's daddy," she said to his son.

He immediately whirled around and shouted, "Daddy! Daddy! Daddy!"

"There's my boy," he said, taking his son. "Thanks again."

"No problem," Jessie said. "Just let me know if I can ever help."

"I will. Ready to go home big guy," Warrick asked as he put Andy in his car seat.

Jessie watched them drive away before she headed into the station. As soon as she walked in the doors, she ran into Brass.

"Hey, can you cover for me," the old detective asked her. "I got a court appearance that I can't miss…"

"Yeah, sure. What do you need me to do?"

"Stokes is about to go interview a suspect and you just need to go with him."

"I'll go talk to him now. Have fun in court," Jessie said as Brass hurried away.

--------------------------------------------------

Jessie got out of Nick's Denali and waited for him to join her at the front of the car.

"This isn't disconcerting or anything," Jessie said when Nick finally joined her. "Are you sure this is where the suspect lives?"

"Yeah," Nick said, looking the place over. "This is the place." 

"Who lives in an old warehouse," Jessie asked.

"A packrat who needs the space," Nick suggested. The warehouse looked like it was as big as an airplane hanger, and through one of the open doors, he could see that it was jam packed with stuff. He looked over to say something to Jessie just to see her tense up.

"Everything alright?"

"Something just feels off about this. You mind if I bring in one of the uniforms that came with us?"

"If you think that's necessary."

"Eric," Jessie said, turning to the officers that had followed them up, "I want you to come in with us. Paul, I want you and Justin to wait out here and make sure we don't have any runners."

"Yes ma'am," Paul said as Eric followed Nick and Jessie inside.


	26. I took the only course of action I could

Erin stood on the steps of the court house and waited for her cue. Once she got it, she smiled into the camera and said, "Thank you Mike. I'm here on the steps of the Clark County Court House waiting for the inquest to determine if Detective Jessica Dixonused unnecessary force when trying tosubdueHector Garcia. 

"As you'll recall, several weeks ago, Det. Dixon as well as Officer Eric Haley and CSI Nick Stokes entered Garcia's residence. While trying to question Garcia, shooting broke out and Mr. Garcia was shot and paralyzed. The Las Vegas Police Department is saying that Det. Dixon's actions were self defense, but Mr.Garcia's attorney, Stanley Bernstein, says otherwise. Now it'll be up to a judge and jury to decide. This is Erin Johnson, Channel 6 Local News. Back to you Mike."

--------------------------------------------------

The courtroom was packed; she could feel them all breathing on her back. Although Jessie knew that wasn't the case, that's what it felt like. However, she didn't let it show; she refused to give that worm Stanley Bernstein the pleasure. She called on everything she learned in boot camp to keep her face stoic and sit still in her seat.

She knew that the whole CSI night shift, Captain Brass, and even Sophia had shown up in support of her. They were all sitting behind her with the exception of Nick. Since he was testifying in her defense, he wasn't allowed in until after he testified.

She sat in her chair waiting for everything to start. She had talked with Greg the night before, listened to what he had gone through. He warned that it would be like a circus with few people even interested in what really happened.

"All rise," the bailiff commanded, breaking into Jessie's thoughts. "The honorable Judge Martin Sanchez presiding."

"You may be seated," Judge Sanchez said as he took his seat. "As you all know, this is not a trial, but an inquest to see if Detective Jessica Dixon's actions were justifiable when she shot Mr. Hector Garcia. The assistant district attorney, Valarie Nichols, will present the facts in this case and introduce the witnesses. If any member of the jury has any questions, they may present them either in writing or orally. Once all the facts have been presented, the jury will rule her actions as justifiable, excusable, or criminal. Ms. Nichols, if you could call your first witness."

"Yes, your honor. We'd like to call CSI Nick Stokes."

Nick entered the courtroom and took the stand.

"Mr. Stokes," Valarie asked, "were you with Detective Dixon on the day in question?"

"Yes I was."

"In your own words, could you tell us what happened?"

"Well, we arrived at Mr. Garcia's residence at about 9 a.m. When we saw it was a giant warehouse, Detective Dixon thought it best if we had one of the uniform officers follow us in…"

"_You look like we're walking through a war zone," Nick said when he looked over and saw how tense Jessie looked._

"_Something doesn't feel right," Jessie answered. "Eric, I want your gun drawn."_

"_Ma'am," he questioned._

"_Will you trust me and do it," Jessie almost snapped._

"_Alright," he sighed, pulling out his side arm._

"_Are you sure that's a good idea," Nick asked. "All this over some feeling?"_

"_Don't knock it. It got me through Iraq, Afghanistan, and Detroit."_

"_Detroit? You have that grouped with countries we're at war with," Nick asked._

"_Spoken by someone who's obviously never been there," Jessie said, feeling a chill go up her spine. "Duck and cover," Jessie yelled as she dove behind some boxes._

_Nick and Eric dove just as a shotgun went off in front of them. While bullets peppered the boxes they were hiding behind, Nick saw Jessie talk to Eric and watched the officer crawl away. Jessie then waited for the shooter to reload before she quickly made her way to where Nick was._

"_Eric's going to go around his left and I'm going to his right. I want you to stay here and try and keep him distracted. Only fire when he's reloading, but do whatever you can to keep the attention off of us, ok?"_

"_Yeah, be careful."_

"_You too," she said as she quickly moved away from him and deeper into the warehouse. Once the suspect stopped shooting, Nick pulled out his gun and shot off several rounds the direction the shotgun was shooting from. After they had repeated that several times, he realized the shots were no longer being fired at him. Taking a risk, he got up from cover to see what washappening._

"Next thing I knew, I saw Garcia go down and Det. Dixon was standing right behind him."

"Thank you Mr. Stokes," Valarie said and took her seat next to Jessie.

"Mr. Stokes, are you loyal to your friends," Stanley Bernstein asked, standing.

"Excuse me," Nick asked, thrown.

"Are you loyal to your friends," Stanley asked slower.

"Yes," Nick answered, not sure where this was going.

"Of course you are. Why wouldn't you be? You help them, they help you."

"I suppose so."

"Have you ever lied for one of your friends?"

"I am not lying…"

"That's not what I asked," Stanley interrupted. "Have ever liedto helpone of your friends?"

"Yes," Nick answered. "Who hasn't?"

Stanley nodded and said, "Especially when there's no one to contradict your story."

"Objection," Valarie said, standing.

"Withdrawn," Stanley said with a smirk. "Mr. Stokes, you've already admitted to lying for a friend, what about for someone you're sleeping with."

"Objection," Valarie said again, anger clearly in her voice.

"It goes for credibility, your honor," Stanley said.

"I'll allow it, but watch yourself. I will not let this to get out of hand," the judge warned.

"Thank you your honor. Well Mr. Stokes? Have you been sleeping with Det. Dixon?"

Nick looked over at Jessie who gave him a sympathetic look. "Well sir, I guess that depends on your definition. If you mean by sexual relations, than the answer is no."

"Are you telling me you have never been intimate with Det. Dixon?"

"This job," Nick said, leaning forward, "causes you to see the worst of humanity. I once saw a guy beat his nine year old daughter to death with a baseball bat because she messed up in her little league game. There are just some nights none of us can sleep, and when that happens we turn to each other. I've also spent the night at Greg Sander's house after he was beaten by a mob of bored kids. Are you going to claim I'm having a homosexual affair with him?"

"No further questions," Stanley said as he made his way back to his seat. Once he moved Nick saw the amused look Jessie was giving him. As soon as he saw that, he started to breathe easier.

"Mr. Stokes, you are excused," Judge Sanchez said.

Nick nodded his head and left the stand and moved to sit next to Warrick.

"Ms. Nichols, could you call your next witness."

"Yes your honor. I'd like to call Detective Jessica Dixon."

Before Jessie stood up, the foreperson signaled someone had written a question out. When the bailiff delivered the question, the judge shook his head and said, "I don't think that's relevant."

"How is that not relevant," the juror asked. "We should know whether or not Det. Dixon or the LVPD has any prejudice against Latinos."

"This sounds familiar," Greg muttered, recalling the juror at his trial who tried to make him out to be a racist.

"Hispanics," Jessie said without emotion, drawing the attention of everyone in the courtroom. "The term you want is Hispanic. Latino strictly refers to Hispanics who can trace their origins back to Spain, which is a reference to when Spain was conquered by the Romans, who spoke Latin. Hispanics includes everyone in that ethnic group. That's an important fact that's easy enough to find on the internet. Maybe we should know whether your own prejudices will play a role in your decision."

The juror didn't know what to say and sat back down.

"Detective, you will please refrain from speaking unless you are questioned by one of the lawyers present."

"Yes your honor," Jessie answered, her voice still emotionless. "I apologize."

"You may now take the stand," Judge Sanchez said. He was successful in hiding his amusement at her answer. He personally hated it when people tried to make race an issue when there wasn't one there and was impressed at how Det. Dixon handled herself.

"Detective Dixon," Valarie started, "could you please tell us what happened in that warehouse?"

"As CSI Stokes has already said, we arrived at Mr. Garcia's warehouse at 0900. As soon as I saw the place, something felt off to me..."

_She could feel the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. There was definitely something wrong. She almost jumped when she heard Nick's voice._

"_You look like we're walking through a war zone."_

"_Something doesn't feel right," Jessie answered. "Eric, I want your gun drawn."_

"_Ma'am," Eric questioned._

"_Will you trust me and do it," Jessie almost snapped. She thought she heard something up ahead, but that just could have been her nerves._

"_Alright," he sighed, pulling out his side arm._

"_Are you sure that's a good idea," Nick asked. "All this over some feeling?"_

"_Don't knock it. It got me through Iraq, Afghanistan, and Detroit," Jessie said, scanning the area ahead of her. She was almost certain she saw someone moving._

"_Detroit? You have that grouped with countries we're at war with," Nick asked with a smile._

"_Spoken by someone who's obviously never been there," Jessie said, feeling a chill go up her spine. She knew she justheard someone rack a shotgun. "Duck and cover!"_

_She looked over to see Nick and Eric dive behind boxes just as a shotgun went off. Eric was right next to her so she turned to him and said, "I want you to go around his left side. I'm going to go around to his right and I'm going to have Nick stay here and hold his attention."_

"_Are you sure about this," he asked, fear dominating his voice._

"_Just trust me, ok? Keep your head down and don't move until he reloads."_

"_Alright," he said as he slowly made his way around boxes. Once she heard the shots stop and the shooter reload, she quickly made her way to where Nick was._

"_Eric's going to go around his left and I'm going to his right," Jessie told him. "I want you to stay here and try and keep him distracted. Only fire when he's reloading, but do whatever you can to keep the attention off of us, ok?"_

"_Yeah, be careful."_

"_You too," she said as she started moving. She could hear shots being fired, both from the shotgun and from Nick. Jessie finally had a visual on the shooter, but because of the boxes he had placed around himself, she didn't have a clear shot. She moved until she was standing behind him. Just as she was about to tell him to drop his weapon, she saw that he had spotted Eric. Before she could get a shot off, he had fired in Eric's direction. Jessie quickly recovered and shot the gunman._

"When I went to go check Officer Haley for a pulse, I saw he had been shot in the chest. He was dead before I got there."

"Since the issue has been raised, did it matter to you that the suspect was Hispanic?"

"I spent 15 years in the Navy as an SP. The only thing I was concerned with was neutralizing the threat. When I saw Officer Haley go down, I did what I had to, nothing more."

"Thank you. Your witness," Valarie said as she sat down.

"You said you spent 15 years in the Navy," Stanley said, standing.

"Yes sir."

"Weren't you involved in a similar incident in an Iraqi village shortly before you retired?"

"I hardly think they compare," Jessie said. "One involved mulitpleterrorists with AK-47sand this involved a single shooter with a shotgun."

"But they were both high stress situations…"

"Sir," Jessie said, interrupting him, "high stress situations are an everyday routine for me, both when I was in the Navy and now as a detective. Mr. Garcia had a shotgun and was firing upon us. I did what I had to to try and disarm him."

"Isn't it true you suffer from post-traumatic stress from that incident in the Iraqi village," Stanley asked.

"Yes," Jessie said calmly. "I see a therapist once a week who submits his evaluations to my superior Captain Brass. They decide whether I'm fit for duty."

He looked over at the jury and saw that his questions were having the opposite effect he'd hoped for, so he changed tactics.

"We've heard testimony that you and Nick Stokes are rather close."

"Yes sir, we are. I'm also close with most of the CSIs."

"Close enough to sleep with?"

"Your Honor," Valarie objected, "he's badgering the witness and wasting this court's time with questions that have already been answered."

"There's a point I'm trying to make, your honor."

"Make it, now," Judge Sanchez ordered.

"Yes, your honor. Detective, did Mr. Stokes affect your shot?"

"What?"

"You saw my client shoot Officer Haley. Logically, Mr. Stokes would be his next target."

"People who shoot at cops hardly ever use logic, Mr. Bernstein," Jessie said.

"But you were," Stanley said, trying to ignore the amused chuckles that broke out at Jessie's statement. "You knew that Mr. Stokes would have to be his next target. That must have had some effect on your shot."

"It did," Jessie said. Before Stanley could say anything else, Jessie said, "If I had known he stood up, I would have adjusted my shot. If the bullet hadn't hit Mr. Garcia's spine, it probably would have gone right through him and injured CSI Stokes. Had I known he was standing, I would have aimed differently and your client would not be here today."

"You could have told him to drop his gun after he shot Officer Haley."

"I could have, but I could tell Mr. Garcia was past the point of reasoning."

"How could you possibly know that?"

"Have you ever tried to talk someone down after they've shot someone?"

"Not recently," Stanley said sarcastically.

"When they first start shooting, that's one thing, but once they've killed someone… Part of their brain has decided that there is no way out for them and they'd rather go out shooting than go to jail. I've been doing this long enough to know that if I had tried to reason with him, I probably have been shot. I took the only course of action I saw open."

"No further questions," Stanley said angrily.

"Detective, you may step down," Judge Sanchez said.

Jessie nodded and headed back to her seat.


	27. Surprises

A/N: This chapter was a dare by jc89. I wasn't going to do it at first, but then I found her idea kind of amusing and decided to run with it. Don't forget to reveiw!

A/N 2: If you like this story, I started writing another one for when I get stuck on this one. It's called Walked this Road Before. Check it out if you're curious and let me know what you think!

* * *

"Thanks Mike," Erin said after she'd gotten her signal. "I'm here on the steps of the Clark County Court House. After three days presenting evidence, the jury took two hours to declare Detective Dixon's actions justifiable. Here comes Stanley Bernstein now. Mr. Bernstein, do you have any comment," Erin asked, shoving the microphone into his face.

"I believe that justice was abused today," Stanley said, starting a speech. Erin was proud that she was able to keep her eyes from rolling at his words. She quickly looked around to see if there was anyone else she could interview when she saw Det. Dixon exit the court house. She quickly abandoned Bernstein and hurried over to the detective.

"Detective! Do you have any comment?" When she didn't get an answer, Erin asked, "Some people believe that the wrong decision was made today because you never gave the implication you had any remorse for your actions. Is this true?"

Jessie stopped and looked over at the hopeful reporter. "Ms. Johnson," Jessie said, pulling out her sunglasses, "I'll feel sorry and apologize to Mr. Garcia when he apologizes to Mrs. Haley for widowing her and leaving her with two boys to raise on her own. Have a good day," she said, walking away and putting her sunglasses on.

Afterwards, everyone went out to eat to celebrate the verdict before shift.

"I finally heard back from the geniuses who do scheduling," Brass said to Jessie after everyone had ordered.

"And…?"

"You're back on graveyard, starting tomorrow."

"Finally," Jessie sighed. "I hate working with the day shift. Ecklie and the sheriff are always hanging around."

"Here's to the graveyard shift," Catherine said raising her glass.

After the toast, everyone started to break into separate conversations. Jessie turned to Nick and said, "I never got a chance to thank you for helping at the inquest."

"It was nothing," Nick said waving his hand. "You would have done the same for me."

"Still, the way you were able to dance around Bernstein's questions saved me a lot of trouble. If you ever need a massive favor, just let me know. I just need 24 hours notices for anything involving family."

"I'll keep that in mind," Nick said with a smile.

Two nights later he wasn't smiling anymore. 'She's going to kill me,' he thought to himself as he knocked frantically at her door. His only hope was to try to reach her before Sara did. 

"Hey, what's up," Jessie asked as soon as she opened the door. He looked like a scared little kid.

"I really need to talk with you."

"Ok," Jessie said, stepping aside and letting him in. Just then Catherine's car quickly pulled into her driveway next to Nick's and Catherine and Sara angrily popped out and headed for her.

"Why do they look like they're about ready to kick my ass," Jessie asked when she heard Nick mutter a profanity under his breath.

"Just what's going on here," Sara demanded.

Confused, Jessie asked, "What are you talking about?"

"Why didn't you tell me you and Nick were married," Sara angrily demanded, glaring at both of them.

Jessie's jaw dropped. She looked behind her and made eye contact with Nick. "Excuse me, for just one second," Jessie said, quickly moving away from her angry sister and dragging Nick with her out of earshot.

"What part of 24 hours notice did you not understand," Jessie demanded.

"Look, I can explain," Nick said nervously. "I was talking to my mother, and I don't even know how we got on the subject, but she said she wanted to bring Jackie, my college ex girlfriend. To keep her from doing it, I had to tell her I was already married to someone. Catherine overheard me, and since we're kind of dating, she assumed it was you and we didn't tell her. One lie led to another, and well…"

"Alright, I get it," Jessie sighed. She looked him over before asking, "So what do you want to do?"

"What?"

"I owe you a favor," Jessie explained with a shrug. "So do you want to continue to lie to everyone or do you want to tell them the truth. It's your call."

Nick couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Are you serious?"

"Absolutely. So what'll it be?"

"If I tell my mother, she's guaranteed to bring Jackie here. If you're willing to go along with lying to her, that's what I think we should do."

"Alright, but what about the team?"

"I don't know…"

"Well, think fast because we have to give the two of them an answer now."

Nick's thoughts raced as he said, "There's no way any of them would be able to lie to my mother and get away with it."

"Then let me handle Catherine and my sister. Go along with everything I say," Jessie said and turned to face the pair.

"This is just a misunderstanding," Jessie said to the angry pair by the door. 

"How's getting married without telling anyone a 'misunderstanding,'" Sara asked.

"Here's what happened," Jessie said. "After last night's shift, Nick and I met up for drinks here. At one point the idea of getting married was brought up, but nothing was really decided. I didn't get a ring or anything like that," Jessie lied, her mind running a mile a minute. "Then today, when his mother called, she told him she was planning on bringing his college ex girlfriend when she came for a visit next week. The way he explained it to me, the only way to keep her from coming was to say he was already married."

"Even that might not stop her," Nick muttered under his breath.

"Catherine overheard him lie to his mother," Jessie continued, "and that's how we find ourselves in this position."

"So you two didn't run off and get married," Catherine asked, just to be sure.

"Do you really think I could hide something like that from Sara," Jessie asked.

"When were you planning on getting married," Sara asked.

"Like I said, we were just talking about it," Jessie answered.

"What if we do it tonight," Catherine suggested. "That way you won't be lying to your mother."

"And this way the whole shift can be there," Sara added excitedly.

Jessie cast Nick a nervous look, unsure how exactly to handle the situation without getting killed. 

While Catherine and Sara shot off ideas, Nick whispered in her ear, "You sure you're still willing to go along with this?"

"It's your call, Cowboy," Jessie answered.

"Alright, hold on," Nick said, interrupting Catherine and Sara. "The two of you can get everything set up, and Jessie and I will meet you at the chapel once the shift is over."

"Deal," Catherine said as she and Sara left, leaving Nick and Jessie alone to try and figure out exactly how to handle the situation they found themselves in.

They had talked for over an hour and decided the best course of action was to go through with the wedding. Since it was his day off, he went home to try and sleep before the "blessed event". As soon as he'd stripped down to his boxers and got under his covers, he heard a voice say, "If I had a body, I'd kick your ass right now."

Nick's head shot up and he saw Mark standing at the foot of his bed. "If you had a body I'd arrest you for breaking and entering," he replied as his head fell back onto the pillow.

"How could you do that to her," Mark demanded, stepping closer.

"I didn't mean for this to happen," Nick said, trying to defend himself.

"But it did. How badly do you think a divorce is going to hurt her when you're all done with this charade?"

"I never planned on divorcing her," Nick said without thinking. Stopping abruptly, he thought over what he had just said. "I never planned on divorcing her," he muttered. "Where did that come from?"

"Your subconscious most likely," Mark answered. "I'm gonna step back for now, but if you give me a reason to get involved…" Mark warned.

"I understand," Nick said, laying down again, thinking over what he had said.


	28. Never doubt a woman's intuition

A/N: Sorry this one is so short (really short, I know and I'm sorry). I'm working on the next part which I want to post all together. Once I'm finished with it, it'll be obvious why I wanted to post it all at once. I'll get it done as fast as I can, but I have several projects all due that's demanding my time and energy.

A/N2: When updated their systems, my section dividers disappeared. I'm going to fix that when I post my next chapters, but if you have this story on a story alert, it might come up as a new chapter. I just want to give a heads up, just in case.

A/N3: Sorry if you got two alerts for this chapter... After I posted it, I realized that I forgot an important section that I really needed to put in.

* * *

Gil Grissom sat next to Sara at the end of the pew and watched Elvis marry Nick and Jessie. Catherine had protested at first, but Jessie was insistent that it was her wedding and she should have at least some of her own flare in it. She said if she had to get married tonight, she was getting married by Elvis. Catherine threw a mini fit, but she got over it and was sitting in the front row next to Keppler.

Sara again whispered something to him, like she had been doing all night, and he had replied, "Yes Dear" like he had been doing all night. Suddenly her words sank in, and his head whipped around. "What did you just say," he demanded.

"I said, 'I think my water just broke.'" She said this loud enough for everyone in the chapel, including Nick and Jessie, to hear.

Jessie looked over at the pair and then turned back to Elvis and said, "I do, he does, alright, everyone to the hospital." A second later she was next to Grissom and they were both helping Sara out to the car.

* * *

Six hours had passed without news. Nick had brought Jessie a change of clothes when he came so she didn't have to sit around in dress. Everyone waited in the hall for news just outside the delivery room. An ecstatic Grissom finally appeared and announced, "It's a girl!"

Catherine and Jessie cheered loudly, and when Grissom saw the money changing hands he almost rolled his eyes. "I don't care what you name her, I'm calling her 'Lucky'," Jessie said happily as Warrick, Nick, and Greg all handed money over to her and Catherine.

"Never doubt a woman's intuition boys," Catherine said counting her money.

"How's Sara doing," Keppler asked.

"Tired, but she's alright. Do you want to see our daughter?"

And with that the group went to go see the newest edition to the Grissom family.

Two hours later Sara woke up in her hospital room. She sat up to look for Grissom when she heard a voice say, "He's not here right now. Nick and Catherine had to force him to go get something to eat and then he'll be right back."

Sara looked over and saw Jessie sitting on one of the chairs next to her bed. She just nodded and laid back down. "Sorry about your wedding," she said, stifling a yawn.

"Don't be," Jessie said, waving her hand. "I personally prefer that it ended that way."

"Me stealing your thunder," Sara asked, raising an eyebrow.

"No that's not it, although I really don't care about that either. Despite evidence to the contrary, I really don't like being the center of attention. No what I'm happy about is that Catherine and I both one 60 

each from the boys. They all bet it was going to be a boy and Catherine and I were the only ones who knew it was going to be a girl."

"Glad I could accommodate you," Sara said sarcastically.

"So am I," she answered with a smile. "So what are you naming the little angel?"

"We decided on Jessica Caroline," Sara answered.

"You named her after me," Jessie asked, shocked.

"And Gil's mother."

"I-I don't know what to say."

"That's a first," Sara said laughing.

"Well, what are you going to call her," Jessie asked. "Because you can't call her Jessica, that's too formal, and if you call her Jessie, that could just get confusing."

"We could always refer to her by her middle name," Sara suggested.

"That's even more formal than 'Jessica'," Jessie said, pacing the room. Sara was amused by the serious look on her face. "I got it," Jessie announced, looking proud of herself. "We can call her J.C.!"

"I like," Sara said. "I'll talk to Gil about it."

"Speaking of the new father," Jessie announced when she saw Grissom standing at the door. "I'll leave the two of you alone."

Grissom brushed passed Jessie and sat on the bed next to his wife.

As soon as they were alone, Sara asked, "So how much did you lose?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Warrick's betting pool," Sara clarified with a smile. "How much did you lose?"

"No, I know what bet you're talking about," he said, pulling out three twenties. "What do you mean, 'lost'?"

"Smart man," Sara said as she buried herself into Grissom's side as he put his arm around her.


	29. Just When You Thought It Was Safe

A/N: I wasn't going post this chapter until I had finished the whole block of them that I've been working on, but my roomate read it, and like the Spainsh Inquisition scene, demanded that I put it up. This time she stole my flash drive that had one paper and all my information for one of my projects that's due tomorrow. She really is a bitch when she wants to be. If you could send her a message and yell at her, her username is JC89.

* * *

"Grissom, if you don't get out of this house and go to work in five minutes I'm throwing something at you," Sara yelled. The two were in the kitchen having the same argument they'd had for the past week.

"I wouldn't worry too much about that," Jessie said. "Her aim sucks." She was leaning against the doorway that led to the living room from the kitchen enjoying the show way too much. Her comment pushed Sara over the edge and she grabbed an empty bottle from the sink and threw it at Jessie. Jessie didn't move and the bottle sailed over her head. "See what I mean." Getting a glare from both Sara and Grissom she threw up her hands and said, "I think I'll go check on my goddaughter…"

They watched her leave the room and were quiet for a minute. Gil finally broke the silence when he said, "I just don't want to leave the two of you this soon."

"But they need you," Sara reasoned. "You heard the Sheriff, you don't need to work a full shift; they just need you to advise some cases and do some paperwork."

"It's only been two weeks…"

"Go," she said softly, putting her hands on his chest. "It's only for a couple of hours. We'll still be here when you get back, I promise."

He sighed in defeat, wrapped his arms around her, and said, "Fine, but I'm calling every five minutes."

"Deal," she said, putting her head on his chest.

They stood there, enjoying the quiet moment when Jessie poked her head in the door and said, "I don't mean to interrupt, but Lucky has filled her diaper."

"Then change it," Sara said, rolling her eyes.

"My job as Godmother, going by the Christian definition, is to guide her spiritually, not deal with soiled diapers."

Sara shook her head and removed her hands from Gil's chest.

"I'll call you when I get to the lab," he said, letting go of her.

Sara smiled and made her way towards her daughter. When she passed Jessie, she said, "You're so useless."

"I'm you little sister, it's my job." Sara just glared at her as she continued on to J.C.

"Ready to go," Jessie asked Grissom. He just nodded and headed out the front door with Jessie following close behind.

* * *

Grissom called, as promised when he got to the lab, and then every fifteen minutes. After the fourth call, Sara made him promise to call less. He honored his word and instead called every thirty minutes.

Sara had just picked up her daughter after changing another diaper when the phone rang.

"We're still fine, Gil," she said balancing the phone in one hand and J.C. in the other.

"I'm just checking to be sure," he said.

"You can rest easy for another thirty minutes," she said sarcastically as she heard a knock. "I gotta go, there's someone at the door."

"Ok, I'll talk to you soon," he said as he hung up.

* * *

"I still can't believe Grissom has a daughter," Greg said as he joined Nick, Catherine, and Jessie around the break room table drinking something that was suppose to pass as coffee. "How do you think he's going to handle her teenage years? I mean, I can picture him going crazy when she starts dating."

"Oh, I don't think it'll be a problem, Jessie said with a smile.

"I don't know," Nick said. "I'm with Greg on this one. I can't see him handling that real well."

"I can," Jessie answered. "Have you ever heard the Rodney Atkins' song 'Cleaning This Gun'?"

"You think he's going to threaten the boys with a gun," Nick asked, thinking over the lyrics. He tried, but he really couldn't picture Grissom holding a firearm.

"No," Jessie explained, "with bugs. I can just see it now: 17 years from now Lucky will be going to last homecoming dance. After she finally deigns the honor of being some guy's date, Grissom is going to demand to meet the guy. So this poor boy will show up, already nervous out of his mind, and Grissom will start to show him his bug collection, sticking mostly to his spiders. After emphasizing just how common and deadly they all are, he'll say, 'But you really need to watch out for the _solanum lycopersicu_. Do you know how you can best avoid that?' Then poor kid, by now scared shitless, will shake his head because he's too terrified to speak. Grissom will reply, 'Have my daughter home by 10:30.' The boy will escort Lucky out to his car, and she'll cast a dark look at her father, knowing exactly what just happened before she goes off into the night and grace everyone at the dance with her presence. Meanwhile, Sara will come up behind him and say, 'He did know that the _solanum lycopersicu_ is just a tomato, right?' To which he'll answer, 'Obviously not.'"

Throughout Jessie's prediction she'd been getting amused smirks and a couple of laughs, but now she observed that everyone at the table was looking away from whatever was behind her. "He's standing right behind me, isn't he," Jessie asked.

"Your prediction is off," Grissom said when Jessie turned around.

"How's that?"

"I would have been out detailing his car to make sure it was safe before I threatened him."

"My mistake," Jessie said with a smile. Nick's phone went off, and he answered it, thinking it was Brass with information on his case. By the way his face changed, Jessie was able to guess that Brass wasn't on the other end of the phone.

"Mom," he said, shock filling his voice. "No, no, I just wasn't expecting you to call, that's all. You're where," he almost shouted, standing up and leaving the room.

When Catherine raised a questioning eyebrow, Jessie answered, "His mother was supposed to come last week, but something came up. Apparently she's still hell bent on making the trip out here."

"I see," Catherine said. "You must be dreading that."

"Let's just say an IA investigation is more appealing at the moment."

Nick came back in and sat down. "She was at the airport getting ready to fly out here, but then she changed her mind and decided to go to New Mexico first to see my sister. She's going to be here sometime next week."

"Great," Jessie muttered.

"We should probably have all your stuff moved into my place by then," Nick said.

"Yeah about that," Jessie started. "Ok, I'm all for man dolls, or "action figures" as you call them, but seriously, you need to get rid of them. Not all of them, but at least half. You don't have to throw them out, just put them in a box in the attic or something."

"What? Why," he asked. "I'm not touching them!"

"Fine," Jesse said. "I'll just buy three candles for every man doll."

"Stop calling them that," Nick said. Her words slowly sunk in and he quickly did the math in his head. "Three? That would be 96 candles!"

"213 if you count the Star Wars collection in your bedroom, which, hey guess what, I do."

"You wouldn't," Nick said, trying to see if she was bluffing.

"Yankee Candle is having a sale this weekend, buy 1, get 1 free," Catherine volunteered. She loved it when Jessie hung out with them before and after shift. There was never a dull moment.

Nick eyes went wide as he looked at both women. To drive her point home, Jessie said with a smile, "Now I personally prefer cucumber melon and strawberry but they have all sorts of scents you can choose from: melon, lemon, lavender, vanilla, cinnamon, lilac, and every combination you can imagine."

To avoid laughing at Nick's expression of horror, Jessie excused herself for a minute.

"Would you like some advice," Grissom asked, pitying the younger man's predicament.

"Sure," he answered, desperate for anything.

"Go for some sort of compromise."

Just then Jessie came back in and Nick said, "I'll store my action figures when you get me the right kind of storage bin."

"Great, I stopped at 'Action-Figures-R-Us' before I stopped by to see Sara this morning. I asked them what would work best and they pointed something out to me. The bin is in my car," Jessie said as she sat back down next to Nick.

"You walked into that," Catherine said, losing the battle not to laugh.

"Why should I have to store them? It's my house," Nick asked, sounding like a little kid.

"Because I'll reattach the cable to the T.V. when you do," Jessie said with a smirk.

"You disconnected my cable," Nick asked.

"And I hid it. Look," she said leaning towards him, "Your mother is going to be here in a week, and if she sees the house as is, she will never believe we've been married for the length of time we're pretending to be. We're going to have to make a few changes around the house if you want to fool her."

"Alright, alright," Nick said grudgingly. "Man, next you're going to tell me to get rid of my 360."

"Well, yeah," Jessie said. "I've got the platinum edition and there'd be no sense in having two of the same thing."

"You got an Xbox 360 platinum edition," Greg asked almost reverently.

"Yeah, I got it when I got Halo 3," Jessie said with a shrug.

"We're going to have to go through our games and take the doubles to GameStop," Nick said.

"You know," Catherine said, "when most people get married they go through appliances and get rid of duplicates. You two are going through video games."

"Your point," Jessie asked.

Catherine just sighed as Nick said, "Hey, is PD almost done with our marriage certificate?"

"What's PD doing with your marriage certificate," Greg asked.

"Bureaucratic bull shit," Jessie explained. "They're going over all the internal squabbling about benefits, tax deductions, etc." When Greg nodded his head, Jessie turned to Nick and said, "I don't know, but I'll check on that tonight."

"Thanks, I got Ecklie climbing up my ass on for it."

"What I wouldn't give to have video footage of that," Jessie said. She laughed as he glared at her and felt her phone go off. "Dixon," she said into it. "Ronnie? … Who gave you my number? … Will you… Ronnie…. RONNIE," she yelled, trying to get the panicked girl's attention. When that didn't work, she started pounding the phone on the table three times before bringing the receiver back to her ear. "Do I finally have your attention? … Good. Now calm down and take deep breaths… I didn't say start talking, I said take deep breaths."

Catherine watched this exchange with amusement. Jessie got along with Ronnie about as well as Sara did, which wasn't saying much. She watched Jessie's face suddenly go from amused to emotionless, and noticed her voice had also lost most of its emotion.

"Are you sure? … Ok, Nick, Greg, and I will be there in five minutes. Do you have crime scene tape? … Ok, block it off and we'll be there as soon as we can…. As soon as we can, I just need to take care of something… That's what I need to take care of…. Just block it off and wait for us, ok?"

She hung up her phone and reattached it to her belt clip completely ignoring the stares she was getting. "Catherine, can I talk to you for a minute?"

Catherine walked over to the younger woman who intentionally turned her back to Grissom. "I need you to make sure Dr. Grissom doesn't leave the lab," Jessie said, her voice still emotionless.

"Why?"

"I'll explain that in a minute, but you're the only one who has any chance of keeping him here. I don't care if you have to tie him down to a desk, he's not to leave this lab. Understood?"

"Yes," Catherine said, raising an eyebrow. If she didn't know better, she'd think that she was a sailor under Jessie's command as opposed to her friend and colleague.

"That was Ronnie," Jessie announced, her voice gaining a little emotion, but not much.

"We gathered that," Grissom said, noticing the change in behavior. "What's going on?"

"You're going to want to sit down," Jessie said quietly but forcefully.

Grissom was about to argue, but when he saw the determined look in her eye he did as she asked. "What's going on," he asked again, this time panic making its way into his voice.

"Ronnie stopped by your house to visit with Sara and noticed the door wide opened. She looked around the house and became convinced that she wasn't there and that Sara and your daughter had been kidnapped."

"What," he demanded, his heart beating faster. This couldn't be happening. Not again. "Are you sure? I've got to get over there," he said trying to stand.

Jessie pushed him back down to the chair and kneeled in front of him. "You need to sit down and take deep breaths."

"But what about Sara and Jessica," he demanded.

"Nick, Greg, and I are headed over there now."

"I need to be there!"

"No, you need to be here, at the lab." When he started to protest, Catherine stepped it, freeing up Jessie so she and the two men could leave. As hurriedly made their way to Jessie's car, Greg said, "I don't know how Catherine's going to be able to convince him to stay at the lab, not with Sara and J.C.'s life at stake."

"She'll have to," Jessie said, her voice thick with concern. "If he shows up, he'll find out everything and I don't know if he'll be able to handle it."

"How could it get any worse for him," Nick asked.

"Ronnie said she found two scale models at the scene. She said they look a lot like the models Grissom keeps locked up in his office from the Miniature Killer case," Jessie said as she climbed into the car. Nick and Greg exchanged horrified looks before they hurriedly joined her.


	30. Examining the Evidence

A/N: Chapters 30-32 are somewhat dark, more dark than anything I've ever written, actually. There is a reason behind this, but suffice it to say, this time of year is hard for me and has a lot of painful reminders. If you don't like it, I'm sorry, but as I promised jtbwriter, by chapter 32 I'll be done with it. This was just something that I needed to write.

* * *

Sara's head was pounding. She let out an involuntary moan as she tried to remember what had happened.

"You're finally awake," said a voice. She tried to sit up, but her head was pounding too hard.

"Who are you," she asked.

"My name is Javier Garcia."

"What do you want with me," Sara asked, finally able to sit up. She was in a dark room, it looked like some type of warehouse, and even though she could see her captor's silhouette standing a few feet in front of her, she couldn't see his face.

"I don't require much," the man said, "just for you and your daughter to die."

"Jessica," Sara breathed. "If you hurt her I'll…"

"You'll what," he asked in a mocking voice.

"Please, don't hurt her," Sara pleaded.

He just laughed and Sara heard him open a door and leave her alone in the darkness.

* * *

"This has got to be one of the freakiest things I've ever seen," Greg said. They were examining the miniatures in the kitchen; Nick and Greg took the one of the Grissom residence, Ronnie took the other one. "Especially considering we locked Natalie up."

"Last I heard she was in a sanitarium," Nick said. "Who knows, maybe she found some way out."

"Forget who the creator is," Jessie interrupted. "I just want to know how they were able to get this much detail on the interior of the house."

"We'll figure it out, don't worry," Nick said.

Jessie walked over to Ronnie, who was examining the other miniature, and asked, "Anything?"

"I've been over this for the past half hour and I've got nothing. Here you take a look," she said, gently pushing the model in her direction.

Jessie sighed and bent over to look at the model. It looked like some sort of empty warehouse filled with racks covered in boxes. Although there wasn't anything particularly special about it, something did seem familiar about it. On one of the walls there was a doll that was supposed to be Sara. It appeared her only real restraint was her right foot tied to some sort of nearby desk. After looking over the model for a couple minutes, she heard noise coming from the front door. "Try going over it with your black light. Who knows? Maybe there's a hidden message there."

"It's not called a black light," Ronnie said.

"Ask me how much I care," Jessie said as she made her way towards the noise. When she got to the entryway, she sighed as she saw Grissom trying to enter the crime scene.

"This is my house," he said, trying to reason with the officers standing guard.

"Detective Dixon has given us orders that you are not to enter. I'm sorry sir."

"Luke, let him in," she said with a sigh. The officer nodded his head and stepped to the side. As soon as he crossed the threshold, Jessie said, "I'm only letting you in so I can talk to you. You cannot stay." When Grissom tried to argue, Jessie quickly interrupted, "This is non-negotiable. I'm not going to lie to you or try to deceive you, but in return you must step back. I don't care if you wait at the lab and get the test results first or help run evidence, but you cannot stay at the scene with us. Alright?"

Reluctantly he nodded his head. Just then Catherine walked past the officers and met them at the front hall. Before Catherine could apologize, Jessie signaled they should both sit in the living room. "Both of you need to hear what I have to say."

Catherine took one of the chairs and Grissom sat on the couch. Jessie took a seat next to him and said, "When I got the call from Ronnie, she was hysterical because of what she had found."

"What did she find," Grissom asked, afraid of the answer. Everything from blood, signs of rape, and amputated limbs ran through his mind.

"Although, like me, Ronnie wasn't here when all this happened, she had heard stories about it. Nick and Greg confirmed it after examining it," Jessie explained, stalling for time.

"Examined what," Grissom demanded. "Tell me what's going on!"

Jessie made eye contact with him and said, "She found two miniatures left here. Miniatures, according to Nick and Greg, exactly like the ones Natalie used to make."

"Oh my God," Catherine said, not believing what she heard.

"One was an exact replica of the first floor of this house and the outside front lawn," Jessie continued, "the second was an unidentified location. What I want to know is, how was this unsub able to produce an exact replica of this house?"

"We wanted to move," Grissom said, hanging his head. "Neither one of us wanted to deal with strangers coming into our house. We talked about it, and although we knew the risk, we thought we'd be safe having pictures online…"

"Is there anything you can find in the miniatures that can give you any idea what happened to Sara," Catherine asked trying to change the subject. She knew how much guilt Grissom would now carry as a result of his actions, and judging by the look Jessie was giving him, so did she.

"In the miniature of this house," Jessie explained, "there's a doll that we believe is Sara laying on the ground out front with an unknown person holding something standing over her. We think that it might be your daughter in his arms and this is the unsub's way of telling us how he did it. On that same miniature Greg found what looked like a syringe placed among the bushes, and Nick was able to find it in the corresponding location outside."

"Is that ready to go back to the lab," Catherine asked.

"Yes," Jessie said. She looked across the room where she saw Ronnie signaling that she needed to talk to her. "Do you think the two of you could take it and send a couple more CSIs to help us process?"

"Yeah, we'll go right now," Catherine said standing. Grissom followed suit.

When they reached the door, evidence in hand, he turned to her and said, "You'll tell me the minute you find anything out?"

"I promise," Jessie said.

As she watched them leave, Ronnie came up behind her and asked, "What's an 'unsub'?"

"Unknown Subject," Jessie explained. "When I was a Shorp, that's what we referred to them as. You know, on the rare occasion we had a case involving anything serious. Anyway, what did you find?"

"You're going to want to see this," she said.

She walked into the kitchen and saw Nick and Greg both looking shaken. "We ran a UV light over the models like you suggested," Ronnie explained.

"And…?" Jessie's patience was wearing thin.

Ronnie turned off the lights and handed safety glasses to Jessie as she put her own on. Once on, she turned on the light to reveal writing on the wall near what looked like a small sheet covering something.

"'Are you sorry yet?'" Jessie read, her brows coming together. "What does that mean?"

"It could mean we didn't find all of the Dell foster kids and one of them has the same love of models as Natalie," Greg theorized. "If that's the case they could be referring to causing Ernie's suicide."

"Theories without facts are a waste of time and energy. Let's stick with what we do know and work from there. In the mean time, I'll call Brass and have him check on the Dell children," Jessie said, taking off the glasses after Ronnie turned the UV light off. She let out a worn out sigh and rubbed her eyes.

"That's not the worst of it," Ronnie said as she turned the lights back on.

"What else is there," Jessie asked, mentally bracing herself. Ronnie lifted up the sheet in the corner, and Jessie stared down at it for a moment before saying, "No one outside this room hears about this, especially Grissom. Understand?"

They all nodded their heads in agreement as they stared down at the model. Under the sheet was a baby laying on its stomach. There looked like there was something sticking out of its back and there was red paint splashed around it.

"No one," Jessie repeated as Ronnie lowered the sheet back over the baby.


	31. Who's supposed to be sorry?

"Nick, I want you to take a 15 minute break," Jessie said, coming up behind him. He'd just lost his temper after thinking he'd found the unsub's footprints in the dirt, only to find out they were Grissom's.

"I'm fine," he said as he went back to work.

"I wasn't asking how you were, or even to take a break. I was telling you to take a 15 minute break to collect your thoughts. Then you can go back to swearing at the dirt."

He turned around and said, "What about you? You've been at this longer than I have."

"As soon as you go on break, I'm going to head back to PD to fill in Capt. Brass of our progress. Then, I'm hitting the showers and changing into the backup clothes I keep in my locker since I've been wearing these for almost 24 hours. Then, I'm coming back."

Nick still wanted to argue with her, but then he saw the look in her eyes. There was determination there, but he could also see fear hidden in them. "Alright," he said standing. "I'll take a break."

Nick got up and started walking. He wasn't really sure where to go, so he walked around the block three times. After that, he walked to the deli that was down the street. He was standing behind the building, estimating how much time that took and how long it would take to get back when he heard someone behind him say, "I know what you've missed."

He turned around and saw Mark standing behind him.

"What are you doing here," Nick asked.

"I'm trying to help," Mark said. "Now, I know what you all missed. Do you want me to share or would you rather stick to crawling on the ground looking for footprints that aren't there?"

Nick glared at him for a minute before softening and saying, "I'm sorry. Yes, I would really like your help."

"That's better," Mark said.

They stood there awkwardly for a minute before Nick asked, "So what did I miss?"

"I can't tell you," Mark said. "If you show up and randomly announced you figured this out, well, everyone is going to know something's up. Now you could pretend to have discovered it on a fluke, but I've seen you lie, and you suck at it."

Nick brought his hands up to start rubbing the tension headache that was forming and asked, "Then what do you suggest?"

"I'm going to tell you where to look."

"And if I still can't find it?"

"Oh, I don't think that'll be a problem," Mark said. "You're a terrible liar, but a good CSI. Now, you want to go back to the miniatures, but this time, go over the warehouse. Rotate it so the doll of Sara faces the kitchen window and look in the upper right hand corner. The "sheets" can be removed. I checked."

"Alright, I'll look," Nick sighed as he headed back to the house.

* * *

Jessie walked into the Crime Lab looking for Brass. She'd learned from Sophia that he'd come here to check up on Grissom who was still processing the syringe.

She noticed when she walked in that there was a commotion at the front desk. As she got closer she saw a woman talking to the secretary, Judy. Whoever this woman was, Jessie could tell from Judy's body language that she was scared.

When Judy saw Jessie standing there, she quickly signaled for her to come over. As she got closer, she saw that the woman talking to Judy was holding a bundle.

"Detective Dixon, this is Natalie Davis," Judy said, her eyes filled with fear. "She wants to talk to Dr. Grissom."

"No," Natalie said, her voice almost sounding dreamy. She nodded towards the bundle and said, "I want to give him this."

Jessie quickly assessed the situation and asked, "What if I gave it to him for you? He's busy right now, trying to find Sara."

"I know," she said. "That's why I'm here. Here, you can give this to him," Natalie said as she handed Jessie what she'd been holding. Jessie looked down at what she was now holding and was shocked into silence. Finally, she said, "I'm going to go see that Dr. Grissom gets this, and then we're going to talk, ok?"

"Alright," Natalie said as an officer led her to an interview room.

Jessie quickly made her way down the hall until she ran into Catherine.

"Where's the fire," Catherine asked.

"Make sure Grissom gets this and stays away from the interview rooms," Jessie said as she handed her charge to Catherine. Catherine was as shocked as Jessie was when she looked down and saw J.C., giggling happily in her arms.

"Where did you…," Catherine started to ask, but Jessie quickly interrupted her.

"I don't have time to explain, but just make sure Grissom doesn't go near the interview room," Jessie repeated.

"Can I know why?"

"No."

"Why not," Catherine asked, confused.

"Because you can't lie if you don't know what's going on either," Jessie said just before she quickly turned away and headed for the interview room that held Natalie.

* * *

"I know who you are," Natalie said. Jessie and Natalie had been sitting in the interview room for a few minutes. This had been the first thing Natalie had said since she had come in carrying J.C.

"And I know who you are," Jessie answered. "Tell me about the miniatures."

"Javier asked me to make them. He said we could finally get revenge for what Dr. Grissom did to Ernie."

"Javier? Was he one of Ernie Dell's foster kids?"

"Uh-huh."

"We found the message on the wall on one of the miniatures and what looked like a dead body under a sheet. Can you tell me about that?"

"Javier asked me to write the message and put the dead baby there. He even said to make it look like it had been stabbed."

"Why would he tell you to do that," Jessie asked, leaning forward.

"Because that's what I was supposed to do. But I didn't want to."

"Why not," Jessie asked. "You've killed people before. Why was this baby any different?"

"Ernie wouldn't have liked it," Natalie whispered.

Jessie looked Natalie over before asking, "Why is Javier doing this? Who's supposed to be sorry?"

* * *

Nick was getting frustrated. He'd gone back in and rotated the miniature just like Mark had said. He'd gone over it for ten minutes when Mark reappeared. "Still haven't found anything?"

"No," Nick whispered, conscious of the officer just outside the room. "I did everything you said."

"Not everything," Mark observed. "I told you, those miniature sheets can be moved. If I were you, I'd try the one next to the pile of boxes."

Nick quickly looked down and saw what he was referring to. He quickly moved the sheet and couldn't believe what he saw. He quickly pulled out his phone and dialed Jessie's number. As soon as she answered, he quickly said, "I know where Sara's being held."

* * *

Jessie had just finished up her interview with Natalie when Nick called. When Nick told her where he discovered where Sara was being held, she mentally kicked herself. She knew she recognized that warehouse. "That makes sense," Jessie sighed. "I just found out that the man behind all this is Javier Garcia."

"Who's he," Nick asked, unable to make the connection.

"He's Hector Garcia's brother. The man I put in a wheelchair. I had Brass check on it, not only was Javier a Dell, but he bought the warehouse when it went up for auction."

"But where did the message come from," Nick asked. "Even in context, it's still a little vague."

"On my way out of court house after the ruling a reporter asked me if I was sorry for what I'd done. I told her I'd be sorry when Hector apologized to Officer Haley's family."

With everything falling into place, Nick said, "I'm not far from the warehouse. I'll meet you there."

"Ok," Jessie said as she climbed into her car. "Make sure you take a couple uniforms with you."

* * *

"You're lying," Sara yelled. She couldn't believe it. It couldn't be true.

"You saw Natalie for yourself. You've seen what she can do," Javier said. "By now she's already made it to CSI, and with the lure of your baby, Dr. Grissom is guaranteed to come out and see for himself, you know that as well as I do. Then before he even has a chance to hold his daughter for the last time, the bomb Natalie has on her would have gone off, killing everyone in the vicinity, including your sister, who wouldn't be able to turn down the chance to see the famous Natalie Davis."

Sara tried to ignore his words, but deep down, she knew it was true. She knew what Natalie was capable of; she knew Gil would go out to see if she really had their daughter; she knew that Jessie wouldn't miss the chance to see Natalie thinking she could somehow connect to her. Knowing all these things, she knew that he was telling the truth. "What are you going to do now," Sara asked, looking up at him. "Kill me?"

"No," he said, pulling out a gun and throwing it at her feet. "You're going to kill yourself."

"You're crazy," Sara said, unable to believe what he'd just said.

"Well, it's either that or die in the fire," he said, pointing to the wall on her right. There was an office located there, and through the windows she could see the telltale glow of flames. "There are oxygen tanks lining that room as soon as that fire gets hot enough… well you know what will happen. "


	32. For those left behind

A/N: This chapter is dedicated to anyone who's ever known someone who's committed suicide and been left to clean up the mess they left.

* * *

The heat was almost unbearable. The oxygen tanks exploded, and although she wasn't hit with any shrapnel, the explosion caused the fire to expand across the warehouse.

Sara looked at the binding that held her to the desk. The rope was knotted that tightly and it would take a serious effort to get free. But with Javier's words echoing in her head she didn't know if she wanted to get free and try and escape. She looked from the rope to the gun and weighed her options. She could live and go the funeral of the only people who really matter to her, or she could be buried beside them. She debated it for a little longer, before finally deciding. She picked up the gun, and then felt herself black out for a second. She shook her head to try and clear her sudden light-headedness. When that didn't work, she gave up on that endeavor, and brought the gun to her mouth. She pulled the trigger but nothing happened, although she felt the gun drop. She let loose a profanity and went to grab the gun again just to discover that she couldn't pick it up.

"You'll find that grabbing objects nowadays will take a little more effort," said someone in front of her. She looked up and saw a man in a Navy uniform. "Congratulations Sara Sidle-Grissom. You've just committed suicide."

"I did?"

"You pulled the trigger, didn't you?"

"Yes, but I thought…"

"You thought what? That you missed? The gun wasn't real?"

"I didn't hear anything… Who are you?"

"My name's Mark. We briefly saw each other once before."

"I remember you," Sara said. "What are you doing here?"

"When you die, there's supposed to be someone you know waiting for you, but the only person you really know that's died is your father, and well, he's busy rotting in Hell at the moment."

Sara gave a small smile and asked, "So are you supposed to escort me to Heaven or something?"

Mark laughed and asked, "What makes you think you're going to Heaven?"

If it was possible, Sara paled and asked, "I'm going to Hell?"

"In a way," Mark explained. "Life is a gift, no matter what hand you may have been dealt. To waste that gift by committing suicide, is a crime, and working in the criminal justice field, you know that all crimes have a punishment. The punishment for suicide is to watch the fallout of your actions and how it destroys the lives of those who cared about you. It's going to start with watching Jessie's reaction to this sight when she comes rushing in here to save you."

"Jessie's alive," Sara asked. "But… but… he said…"

"He lied," Mark interrupted. "His brother, Hector, was paralyzed when he was shot by Jessie. He was also one of Ernie Dell's kids. What better way to get back at the two people he hates most then to have someone they both care about as much as you commit suicide just before they find you."

"How close are they?"

"You should see Jessie coming around that corner in about 30 seconds."

True to his prediction, she saw her sister come rushing in, coughing on smoke, shouting out her name. Jessie saw Sara on the ground and rushed towards her. Sara watched, unable to look away as she watched Jessie stop at her body, and drop down to cut the rope that bound her with the Ka-Bar knife she always carried. With the ropes cut, Jessie looked up to see if Sara was conscious. Sara knew when Jessie figured out what happened by the look of shock and despair that flooded her eyes. The look pierced her heart, and she felt herself starting to cry. After taking a moment to compose herself, Jessie picked up Sara's body and carefully made her way to the exit.

"What's going happen now," Sara asked as she watched Jessie leave.

"Even though Jessie tried to keep Dr. Grissom from coming, he's still going to show up, holding your daughter. His knees will give out, and if he wasn't holding baby Jessica so close his chest, he probably would have dropped her too. Then there'll be an autopsy in which gunpowder residue will be found on your hands and everyone will find out what you did."

"Tell me I don't have to see that," Sara begged.

"No, you won't." Before Sara could breathe a sigh of relief, Mark said, "We're fast forwarding 18 years so you can see just what your actions have caused."

There was a flash of light, and the next thing Sara knew, they were in the LVPD's holding cells.

"What are we doing here," Sara asked.

"You'll see," Mark said as the door that led to the holding cells from the processing station opened.

Sophia Curtis, still looking good despite aging almost two decades, walked in followed by an old man. His shoulders were slumped, as if he were Atlas holding up the weight of the world. His hair was completely white and he had a shaggy beard that he hid behind with his glasses.

"I tried pulling more strings to keep them from pressing charges," Sophia said to the man, "but the prosecutor was adamant. I'm sorry Grissom."

Sara's jaw dropped; she couldn't believe that the man standing in front of her was her husband.

"That's alright Sophia," he said, his voice sounding defeated. "You did what you could. Where is she?"

"Right here," she said, opening the gate. "Come on Jessica. You're father paid your bail, again."

"Whatever," came a surely voice from the back corner. Sara felt her stomach twist into knots when she saw her daughter stand up and walk towards the front of the cell.

"What does she mean 'again'," Sara asked, afraid of the answer, but unable to stop herself from asking.

"Without you there, and suffering from his guilt over what happened, he had a hard time raising her. She's a free spirit just like you, and he could never bring himself to yell at her. You know the old saying, 'Spare the rod, spoil the child'? Well, that's what happened here. She's had a string of petty crimes ranging from defacing public property to criminal mischief. Tonight she broke into a prominent judge's home and was caught with several portable electronics."

Sara's heart broke as she watched Grissom and Jessica leave PD. Mark and Sara sat in the car as Grissom drove Jessica home. He pulled into an apartment complex and turned off the engine.

"What were you thinking," Gil asked his daughter.

"I was bored," she said with a shrug.

"You could go to jail, don't you know that," he asked. Clearly, this was an argument they'd had before. "You're smarter than this."

"It beats my current living situation."

"Is it really that bad living with me?"

"Every time you look at me you see her," Jessica said angrily. "And every time you see her you wish I had died instead of her. I hate you!"

Jessica stormed out of the car and headed up the stairs of the apartment building. Grissom sat behind the wheel a little longer before whispering, "You couldn't possibly hate me anymore than I hate myself."

Sara sat in the car and cried for a while before Mark finally forced her out.

"Where are we going," she asked.

"To see your grave," he answered.

She nodded her head before asking, "What happened to everyone else?"

"They moved on," he answered. "Warrick's son, Andy, ended up enlisting in the Marines and died in an assault on Tehran in the U.S.-Iranian War that has recently broken out. Catherine and Keppler got married and had a few kids. Same with Ronnie and Greg, although they moved to Colorado. Nick just kind of drifts along, doing his own thing. He's a good CSI and word is that he's going to get the promotion to Assistant Lab Director. His job is his only constant; if it wasn't for that, he'd bounce around from job to job like he does girlfriends."

"What about Jessie," Sara asked.

"They split up shortly after you killed yourself," Mark answered as they entered the cemetery. "She blamed herself for what happened to you and just shut down emotionally. As hard as he tried, he couldn't reach her. Eventually he had to give up and got a divorce. She signed it uncontested. Here we are," Mark said, nodding towards the grave stone. "Jessie picked the spot; she thought you'd like the weeping willow that's next to the grave."

"Where is she now," Sara asked, her throat suddenly dry.

"After the divorce, her mother and grandfather were worried about her, so they decided to visit her. On their way to her apartment they were hit head on by a drunk driver. They were DOA."

"Oh my God," Sara whispered.

"She requested a week off, and Brass granted it, thinking it was for the best," Mark continued as he started walking. He moved to stand behind Sara's headstone and faced her. "She'd mailed a package to Phil, and he got it three days after she went on leave. Attached to the box was a note that said, 'These don't deserve to be hanging, but they're yours if you want them.' Inside he found her dog tags. He immediately called Nick who went to check on her," Mark said as he moved to stand behind the stone next to hers. "But he was too late. She had been gone for two days by the time he found her." Sara read the name on the stone next to hers and felt her heart rip apart when she saw Jessie's name on it. "Before she killed herself," Mark continued as Sara started to sob, "she stopped here one last time."

An image slowly materialized in front of Sara's grave. It was Jessie in a long black coat. She looked like she hadn't slept in a week. She looked pale and had lost a lot of weight. She just stared down at the grave as she said, "I wanted to see you one last time so I could tell you I was sorry. Sorry I wasn't fast enough, strong enough, or smart enough to save you. I should have gotten there sooner. I recognized the building the second I saw the miniature, but I was so caught up trying to separate myself from the case that I missed it. If I hadn't, you wouldn't have killed yourself." Jessie looked up and appeared to look right at Sara as she gathered her thoughts. Finally she heaved a sigh and turned to leave. As the vision faded, she could hear Jessie whisper, "Forgive me."

"Stop it," Sara yelled in between sobs.

"Had enough?"

"Yes," she choked out.

"Now do you think pulling that trigger was a bad idea?"

"Yes…"

"Good, now you won't do it again," he said.

"What's it matter? I'm already dead."

"Tell me," Mark asked, "do you think 'A Christmas Carol' would have ended differently if Scrooge knew he would wake up at the end no matter what?"

"Are you saying this was a dream," Sara asked, wiping her eyes. "I'm not really dead?"

"No," Marks answered. "This was a vision. You're still in that warehouse and they're on their way. All you gotta do is what you do best and fight until they get there."

There was another flash, and Sara felt the heat of the fire on her and the weight of the gun in her hand. The first thing she did when she opened her eyes was throw the gun away, and then started on the knot by her foot. It was disposed of easily enough, although the smoke was making it hard to breathe. She tried to make her way to the exit, but the smoke overwhelmed her and she soon hit the floor. The last sound she heard before she passed out was Jessie calling for her.

* * *

A/N: As promised, this is where I end with the rather dark section. I realize that Sara was a bit OOC, I doubt she would ever give up like that. As I promised jtbwriter, the next few chapters will be mostly fluff. Although who knows, I usually have to throw some type of wrench into the gears and mess with their lives...


	33. On a Much Lighter Note

A/N: Thank you to everyone who put up with the last few chapters even if that wasn't quite your thing. I really do appreciate it. I just finished this chapter and wanted to post everything all together. I apologize for all errors that may be in this.

A/N2: I'm sure Nick isn't as big of a nerd as I'm making him to be with the action figures, but after Mary and I came up with the candle joke it was too good to pass up.

* * *

"Gil, I'm fine," Sara said what felt like the hundredth time that day. It had been a week since she'd been released from the hospital, and he hadn't left her side except when J.C. needed him. She had to admit, after the experience she just had, it was nice to have him so close. However, it soon became really old not being able to use the bathroom without supervision.

"I just want to make sure you don't pass out and hit your head," he said from the doorway.

"Jessie," Sara yelled.

"Hey don't look at me," she said, coming into view, holding J.C. "I voted on installing cameras all over the place and implanting you with a chip to track your every movement."

"Please, Gil, let me go to the bathroom in peace…"

"Alright," he sighed, "but I'm going to be right outside if you need me." He walked out of the bathroom and leaned against the wall next to Jessie. "Do you think I'm overdoing it," he asked her.

"Maybe just a little," she said, handing J.C. to her father. "Anyway, I gotta get going. Apparently Nick's mother is still threatening on visiting and I promised I'd help him clean up the house."

"Didn't you just clean it three days ago before she changed her plans the third time," Sara asked, coming out of the bathroom.

"Yeah, but then we decided to have a Criminal Minds/Band of Brothers/ Star Wars marathon on our day off, and things kind of got out of hand."

"How did things get out of hand? You guys were just watching TV," Sara asked as she took J.C. from Grissom.

"Yeah, but I forgot that it was the day of the Michigan-Ohio State football game. As soon as I realized it, I quickly turned off the movie and onto the game. What I didn't know was that I turned the movie off at Nick's favorite part. When OSU scored almost as soon as I changed it, he said Michigan deserved it. In response to that comment I threw my half finished piece of pizza at him and he responded by flicking pudding at me. One thing led to another…"

"I get the idea," Sara quickly interrupted.

"Yeah, anyway, I promised him I'd help him clean up." Just then her phone went off. "Speak of the devil," she said when she saw the caller I.D. "I was just on my way."

"I found the cable," Nick said. She was smiling as he asked, "What made you think to put it there?"

"Two reasons. One, if I hid it anywhere else I would have forgotten where. Two, it really is the most logical place to put it. Either it's such a good spot you'd never think of looking there or it'd be a reward for when you finally put away your man dolls like I'd asked. Admit it, hiding the cable in the bin for the dolls was a good spot."

"Yeah, yeah," he said. "Anyway, I think my mother's serious about coming this time. My sister called to tell me she finally left her house."

"I'll try to contain my excitement," Jessie said dryly as she waved goodbye to Sara and Grissom and headed out to her car.

"She'll only be here a couple of days," Nick said.

"Yeah, that's what she said to your sister three weeks ago," she replied.

"I only left a dozen action figures out, but you can only put up one candle per action figure," he said, quickly changing the subject.

"Who gave you the right to make that rule," Jessie asked with a smile.

"Because you have more Navy stuff than I have movies and action figures combined."

"Alright, I'll put most of that into storage," she conceded laughing.

"Anyway, Warrick called and asked if you would mind looking after Andy tonight since you have it off."

"I love watching that kid," Jessie said. "I'll call him back now. See you when I get home in a few minutes."

* * *

A couple hours later, Nick was in the middle of finishing up some paper work from the case he'd just closed when his phone rang.

"Stokes," he said without looking at the caller ID.

"I think your mother might be here," Jessie said.

"What?"

"Either that or I'm going to have to arrest this woman for breaking and entering, and somehow I don't think the charges would stick on an old woman, especially since she seemed to have a key. Oh and I think Jackie might be here too."

"What," Nick almost shouted, unable to believe what he was hearing.

"About 5'6", blond hair, pretty in that average kind of way, probably needs to drop a few pounds."

"Yeah, that's her," Nick sighed. "Where are they?"

"Standing right in front of me."

Nick was silent a moment before asking, "Did they hear what you just said?"

"Judging by the glare I'm getting, they probably did," Jessie answered. Nick was about to say something when Jessie said, "I think your mother wants to talk to you."

As he listened to his mother's icy tone on the other end of the phone, he had to try his best not to start laughing at the entire situation.

* * *

Jessie took Andy's hand and led him to the kitchen.

"Why Unca Nick mommy mad," the little boy asked.

"I don't know," Jessie said as she poured him a glass of milk. Fifteen minutes later, Andy was falling asleep in his chair, so she took him upstairs and put him to bed. By the time she came back down, Nick had come home and was talking to his mother.

"You had no right to bring her," he said. "I told you I was married."

"I thought you were making that up so I wouldn't bring her. Now I wish you were. What could you ever see in that bitch…"

"Can we watch the language please," Jessie said, figuring she should make her presence known. "Andy may be sleeping for now, but the kid has ears like a hawk and I don't think Warrick wants his son to learn any new vocabulary."

Nick's mother glared at Jessie before turning to her son and saying, "I don't approve of her. She'll create a rift between us and I'll lose you like I lost your brother."

"Mom...," Nick sighed.

He was getting angry at how his mother was treating Jessie, but when he looked over at her he could tell she was amused. Their eyes met and suddenly he had to fight the smile that was threatening when he realized his mother was talking.

"… and I won't allow any woman who treats guests so rudely by insulting them to their face to be married to my son."

"Just so we're clear for future reference," Jessie interrupted, "would you prefer I waited until your back was turned before I "insult" you? And what would you call what you're doing to me right now?"

It took a minute for Nick's mother to compose herself before turning to Nick and saying, "It's either me or her. I'll let you think this over tonight. Make sure you think long and hard about it."

She quickly made her way out the door with Jackie following close behind her. After the door slammed, Jessie turned to Nick and said, "I don't know about you, but that's what I call a good time."

Nick gave a weak laugh and leaned against the wall as he realized what just happened. "I think my mom's mad at me."

"Astute observation, cowboy," she said, moving to stand next to him. "So what are you going to do?"

"She'll probably call me tomorrow and try to get me to apologize to her and divorce you. Then she'll try to set me up with Jackie, force me to move back to Texas, and get a job back in my old home town."

"That's quite the prediction."

"Nothing she hasn't tried before. But what's really going to happen is I'm going to tell her I'm not apologizing, and if she ever wants to talk to me again she'll have to apologize to you, in person. After that, I'm calling up my sister and bragging how I'm not going to have anymore visits from Mom."

Jessie just laughed and asked, "Are you sure you want to do that?"

"Absolutely," he said as he pulled her into his arms.

They were lost in the quiet moment when they heard a small voice ask, "Waffs all da noize?"

The both turned to see Andy standing at the top of the stairs, holding a teddy bear. Jessie smiled at Nick before breaking away and heading towards the boy. "Nothin darlin. Just a little misunderstanding is all. Why don't we get you back to bed?"

Nick smiled as he watched the two head towards the bedroom and out of sight. 'I definitely made the right decision,' he thought as he headed to the kitchen to get something to eat.


	34. Fun at the DS

"Why won't you tell me why you're angry," Sara asked as she followed Jessie into the D.S.

"Because I'm not drunk enough yet," she answered. It had been a month since Nick's mother had shown up. Randomly that morning Jessie had shown up at Sara's doorstep, announced that Gil would be watching J.C. for the weekend and the two of them were going to Fallon.

Phil saw the two women enter and could tell from behind the bar that Jessie was pissed. Nick Stokes had called ahead and warned him and told him the story behind her mood. By the time she was seated he had a suicide in front of her.

"Now I remember why I like you so much," Jessie said as she downed the drink in one gulp. "If you don't mind, could you make the next one a double?"

"That's not going to solve your problem, you know," Phil said as he made the drink anyway.

"I guess that depends on your definition of 'solve'," Jessie said, taking the drink.

Before she had a chance to down it like the last one, he grabbed her arm and said, "That's the last one I'm serving you for an hour; you'd better make it last." When Jessie glared at him he said, "I'm not going to have you getting drunk and starting a fight in my bar. If you're pissed, talk to your sister."

Jessie sighed and stared at her drink. Before Sara had a chance to say anything, Mary came up and started talking with them. Apparently Phil was helping her pay for some business courses at the local community college. In return, as well as her waitressing duties, she also had to put to use what she'd learned in class with the bar's finances. When some drunk tried to cop a field on Mary in the middle of their conversation, she nailed him with a right hook that knocked him out.

"Phil's been giving me lessons," she said, blushing slightly at the amused looks she was getting from Jessie and Sara.

"You learn well," Jessie observed. Shortly after, Mary had to get back to work, leaving Jessie and Sara alone again.

They were silent for a minute before Sara asked, "Are you drunk enough yet?"

"I wish," Jessie answered as she downed the drink and looked over at the clock calculating 30 more minutes until she could have another.

"You might as well tell me know and get it over with."

Jessie sighed. "You're going to kill me, and so is Catherine if she finds out. Actually, I think I'm more scared of her than I am you."

Sara just sat quietly and waited for Jessie to tell her story. Jessie heaved another sigh and proceeded to tell the truth about her marriage to Nick.

"Why didn't you tell me the truth a month ago," Sara asked feeling a little hurt that Jessie wouldn't trust her with this secret.

"You'd just had J.C.," she explained. "Then you disappeared. It just never felt like the right moment."

"So what's the problem now?"

"Last night we were watching T.V. when this commercial came on for a new PS3 game. I made some comment of wanting one but not being able to afford it, and he said that if I sold my condo and gave up my storage locker I'd be able to. Sarcastically I asked where I'd live, and that's when he dropped the L-word."

"The 'L-word'?"

"Love," Jessie answered.

"Wait, you're mad because he said he loved you?"

"Why would he go and do something like that," Jessie asked, confused and angry.

"What do you mean?"

"Everyone who gets close to me gets hurt," Jessie said sadly. "Laura was right; I'm just a fuck up who destroys everyone's life."

"That's not true," Sara started, but Jessie quickly interrupted her and pointed to the pictures on the wall nearby.

"They all died when they took me out to try and cheer me up. Danny died and we all got sent to foster homes after he took me in. Catherine was taken hostage after I got a profile wrong. Officer Haley died trying to apprehend a suspect. You were kidnapped by his brother trying to take revenge on me. Even when I'm just doing my job, those around me get hurt."

Sara was at a loss and looked around the bar when her eyes settled on Mary. "What about her," Sara asked, pointing in her direction.

"What about her?"

"I don't know about you, but I think her life has significantly improved since you stepped in and got her a job here." When Jessie tried to wave that off, Sara continued by saying, "You helped get Catherine and Mike together; if you didn't watch Andy as much as you do, Warrick would almost never be able to come into work… There are so many other examples of how you give everything you got and still have the ability to make a joke of it."

During Sara's speech Jessie had looked away as her words sank in. Without warning, Sara grabbed the front of Jessie's shirt and pulled her within inches of her face. Jessie was so surprised by Sara's sudden actions, that she had a deer in the headlights look as Sara said, "And if you ever quote Laura or start 

agreeing with anything she said again, I'm going to kick your ass, got it?" Still shocked, Jessie could only nod her head. Sara let go of her shirt and said, "Good, now if you'll excuse me for a minute." She got up and made her way to the bathroom, where she lost and started laughing so hard she cried. It had been difficult to keep a straight face at the expression Jessie had given her that she had escaped the first chance she had.

When she came back out, she saw Jessie arguing with Phil.

"Why can't I have another drink," she demanded.

"I already told you," he shouted back. "Every time you get drunk when you're angry you start a fight! I'm not having you start a fight in my bar tonight. I just got the tables replaced."

"I'm not angry God Damn it! Stop telling me I am and pour me a fucking drink!"

"Yeah, there's no way you're angry," Phil responded. Sara just sighed and stepped in before Jessie completely lost it.


	35. Hangovers and Confessions

A/N: Sorry this took me so long to write. Grand Theft Auto IV came out and has been distracting me to say the least. For those of you who thought I wrote Jessie out of character last chapter (and I was surprised by how many messages I got saying that) I hope this helps shed light on as to why I don't think it was OOC.

A/N2: I don't know how many of you saw it, but my college room mate wrote a one shot that supposed to be set during this story. She actually did a really good job. If you're curious, it's "A Do Right must always do right" by jc89. It's actually pretty funny.

* * *

Jessie was pretty sure she was dying. At 8:00 a.m., after getting only four hours of sleep, Sara forced Jessie to get up and get into the car. Before getting into the car herself, Sara handed Jessie a giant paper bag should she feel the need to throw up. Two hours later, she had to stop to get her severely hung over sister another bag. Unfortunately for Sara, the bag got to her too late.

Her head pounding, Jessie looked out the window to see them drive through Las Vegas on the way to her house. "Tell me again why had to leave so early?"

"Because Gil has to work tonight and I would like to see him before he goes. Besides, you need to watch Andy. Remember? You promised Warrick you would last week."

"What," Jessie exclaimed, a look of horror invading her face. All she could think about was his little voice hitting a decibel that could shatter glass, making her head ache at just the thought. "Are you serious," she demanded. "You gotta help me out! I love that kid like my own son, I really do, but if he makes any sort of high pitched sound, I might end up killing him."

"I'll make you a deal," Sara offered. "I'll take Andy tonight, and in return, you've got to talk to Nick, tell him everything you told me last night."

"That's real low," Jessie said, rubbing her forehead in an effort to think. "You take Andy," she sighed after a minute. "Nick will at least be sympathetic of my headache."

Sara smiled and said, "I'll call Warrick and tell him for you."

"Thanks," she muttered as Sara pulled into her driveway. "Why must it be so bright," she complained, squinting through her sunglasses.

"Yeah, what's up with there being a lot of sun in the desert," Sara asked sarcastically.

"Seriously! Whatever happened to pollution and smog and all that other stuff those enviro-nuts are always warning about?"

"I'll talk to you later," Sara said laughing as Jessie practically crawled out of the car and in her front door.

Jessie quietly entered the house, partly because Nick would probably be sleeping at this time, but mostly because of her head.

"Hey you're home early," Nick shouted from the next room when he heard the door close. He walked to the entryway to see Jessie gripping her forehead. "Are you alright?"

"I'm pretty sure my head's about to explode," Jessie whimpered as she made her way to the kitchen. Nick's yell had not helped her head.

"How much did you drink?"

"Three suicides- two of them doubles- one Jack and coke, and about half a bottle of Seagram's 7."

"How did you not pass out from all that," Nick asked, accidentally raising his voice in shock. "Sorry," he said when he saw her wince.

"I drank them over a six hour period. We got there at 8 and Phil threw us, well me, out at 2. Sara was insistent on getting back here early, so she dragged my hung over ass into the car early this morning after only getting four hours to try and sleep everything off."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Nick said as he watched her open the pantry door and just stare at its contents.

"It's alright," Jessie said. "I ended up with the last laugh. At one point I threw up all over the floor of her car. At least I think I did. I can't remember. What happened to my macaroni and cheese?"

"It should still be in there," he said, watching from afar. He found the whole scene very amusing, although he thought that in the best interest of his health, it would be better if Jessie didn't realize it.

"I don't see it," she said helplessly. Nick got up and saw that the box was right in front of her. When he grabbed it, she said, "I would have been able to see it if it wasn't so dark in here."

"It'd be a lot brighter if you took your sunglasses off." Nick couldn't fight the smile that invaded his face as he watched her discover that, yes, she really was still wearing her sunglasses. "Have a seat," he told her with a smile. "I'll make it for you."

Normally she would have argued, but she admitted to herself that considering how hung over she was, attempting to make mac and cheese would really be rocket science to her. With his back turned to her as he filled a pot up with water, he asked, "So you took out of here kind of fast on Friday…"

Jessie grimaced, and this time her headache had nothing to do with it. "Food, then nap, then talk," she said as Nick turned around. "Give me a little more time to sober up and lose this headache and then we'll talk."

"Promise," Nick asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Yes, I promise," she said, shaking her head.

True to her word, three hours later they were sitting on the living room couch. An awkward silence had invaded the room. Finally, when she couldn't take it anymore, Jessie asked, "You want to know why I ran so quickly to Fallon, don't you?"

"I have been trying to figure it out," Nick said nervously.

"Simply put, I was scared," Jessie answered, unable to look at him.

Nick reached for her hand and said, "I'm never going to leave you."

"It's not that," Jessie said, shaking her head, still unable to look at him.

"Then what is it?"

"When I was four, Laura Sidle, in different words, told me that I ruin everyone's life around me."

"That's not true," Nick said, only to be interrupted.

"Everyone who means anything to me has died or come very close to it and I don't know if I could survive if I lost you. So when you told me you loved me, I panicked."

"Nothing's going to happen to me."

"You don't know that," Jessie said. "Mark used to say the same thing. Said we had nothing to worry about since we were on a ship. Look what happened to him."

Nick put his free hand on her face and forced her to look at him. "I've had to make an arrest in front of an armed, angry crowd."

"What," she asked, confused.

"This guy, he and one of his sick friends beheaded a woman and left her head in a newspaper box after they had preformed some weird ritual to it so he could be immortalized in a song. When we went to make the arrest, we were in the middle of a mob of Mexicans who didn't like cops to begin with and all of them were armed."

"Oh," Jessie said, not getting the point.

"Then there was the time I was buried alive in a box that had pressurized explosives. Then after Greg had been beaten I attacked an observer who was heckling us. He had plenty of friends with him and if Warrick hadn't have stepped in I might have ended up just like Greg. I've been shot at more times than I can count…"

"Where are you going with all this," Jessie asked, interrupting him.

"If I was going to die, I think it would have happened already. Nothing's going to happen to me. I promise I'm not going anywhere," he said, using his thumb to wipe a stray tear that had fallen.

Jessie gave a weak smile, her first of the day, before burying her head in his chest. "You break your promise I'm kicking your ass," she after a minute.

"I'll keep that in mind," he said, resting his chin on top of her head.

They enjoyed the peace of the moment until it was shattered by both their cell phones going off. They both answered and argued with the person on the other end before agreeing and hanging up.

"I just called in," Nick sighed.

"For the triple homicide that involves the governor's son? Me too," Jessie sighed. As she walked away to get her badge and side arm she said, "I only hope the press leaves me alone. I can hardly deal with them when I'm not hung over."

"That scene should be entertaining to say the least," Nick said, laughing when she turned to glare at him.


End file.
